Chapter Four

More Peculiar Professors

The Transfiguration classroom was on the first floor, requiring the five first years to walk up two flights of stairs. "I think that the Transfiguration professor is Head of Ravenclaw," Rose whispered as they entered the classroom.

The windows were high and large, allowing sunlight to stream in unimpeded, much like the Great Hall. The Transfiguration classroom was significantly taller than the Potions room, extending a full seven meters above their heads. The classroom was entirely devoid of desks. There was instead a set of large steps to the right of the door they entered through.

Waiting in the middle of the floor space was a man who looked very young for a professor. He had mousy brown hair and was clean shaven, with robes that were close fitted for ease of movement. He was athletic looking and, sure enough, had a raven pin attached to his lapel. Both the classroom and the professor's dress were polar opposites of Professor Nyx's.

"Hello, hello, come on in," the professor greeted, pointing to the stairs.

They took the cue and sat. The steps were designed for sitting more than climbing, as each step was almost half a meter high. Finn bounded up to the top level. Albus and Scorpius followed, while the girls opted to stay on the first step.

The man looked positively tiny compared to the amount of space in the room. "Hello!" he boomed in a loud voice. Albus figured he had applied a charm to make himself louder. "My name is Marcus Merriweather. You can call me Professor M."

"Good morning, Professor M," chorused a canned voice from the corner.

Some students snickered as Professor M took a small bow. "Thank you, thank you. Nothing like setting the tone on a bright day, hmm?"

"Sure not, Professor M," said the voice, sounding extremely bored. It raised another round of chuckles that he waved off.

"Alright, that's enough of that." He spread his arms. "You're probably wondering why there aren't any chairs, or books, or desks, or really any traditional classroom ornaments. You see," he explained, walking towards the steps, "Transfiguration is a complicated art form. My predecessor, the esteemed Minerva McGonagall, believed that it was the most complex and essential branch of magic. I, of course, am inclined to agree. I made a career out of it, after all." He looked up. "I'm spotting some very nervous faces. Including one in particular..." His face broke into a smile. "Ah, Albus Potter! Could you please make your way down?"

Albus raised a curious eyebrow, shrugging off the strap of his knapsack and bounding down the steps.

Finn began clapping. "Yeah, Albus!"

The students laughed and Professor M joined in. "Yes, go on! Make some noise! Let's get a bit looser, don't be shy!"

The class clapped modestly as Albus stood next to the professor. He was taller than Albus thought, maybe even as tall as Uncle Ron.

"Now," said Professor M, "I'm going to embarrass you a bit, Albus."

Albus laughed nervously. "Do I have a choice?"

"Nope!" he said cheerily. He moved around Albus, examining the back of his head. "I attended Hogwarts about four years after Harry Potter left. He was a bit of a legend, you know," Professor M said, pushing hair out of his face. "In fact, I wanted to be an Auror when I grew up, just like him. Then, one fateful day, I got into a duel with a rival student. It ended up very bloody. I lost three of my fingers," he said, holding up his left hand. It appeared to be perfectly normal.

"It looks fine to me," hollered Minghao, one of the first year Slytherins.

"Of course, it looks fine. I'm a bloody Transfiguration professor, aren't I?"

Albus would have grinned along with the rest had he not been incredibly uncomfortable.

"Anyways, the point of this story is that Harry Potter was a bad student, any questions?" Albus actually did laugh now. Professor M turned to face him. "What is it?"

"You're one of the only people who've actually admitted that he wasn't a good student," said Albus, smiling.

"Well he wasn't, no? I've heard the stories, like that time he flunked Divination, or the other when he got a T on a Potions exam."

"Professor," said a Ravenclaw boy, raising his hand, "I don't think a mark called 'T' exists."

"It stands for Troll. Do well enough and you won't ever need to know it exists," M said, tapping the side of his forehead.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Albus?" the man questioned, turning towards him.

"I still don't understand why you've called me up here."

"Ah yes, here." Professor M swiveled to face the class once more. "In The Boy Who Lived's—Lived's? Is that right? Oh, it doesn't matter—in Harry Potter's second year at Hogwarts, he was the victim of a Bone-Mending Charm gone awry. I'm going to replicate these effects on Albus using the power of Transfiguration. I say replicate the effects and not the actual thing, for vanishing the bones in someone's arm leads to a rather painful night of Skele-Gro that I don't think Albus wants to experience anytime soon." He brandished his wand dramatically. "Are you ready, Mister Potter?"

There was a beat of silence. "Oh, erm, sure," he stuttered, realizing that the professor was waiting for a response.

Professor M stared at his arm intently before swishing his wand down with force. Albus's arm, which was before crossed along his chest, dropped like a wet sack and pulled him to the ground. Albus went wide eyed as he was sent toppling over, spilling out onto the floor.

"You see," said Professor M matter-of-fact, "It's as though I've liquified the bones in his arm."

Albus looked up at the stairs. Scorpius, Talia and Finn were laughing hysterically, while Rose appeared mildly amused.

"Why don't you tell us how that feels, Albus?" Professor M asked.

Albus turned his gaze to his limp arm and attempted to move it. It flopped like a fish, heavy and immobile. "Well professor, it feels as though someone's liquified the bones in my arm."

"Ah, how acute of an observation!" Professor M cast the counter-spell and Albus's arm snapped back into position. It was mildly uncomfortable but not painful. "Good show, Albus. Ten points to Slytherin for your assistance. Everybody, give Albus another round of applause!" he exclaimed as Albus bounded back up the stairs.

Scorpius clapped him on the back. "Good job, Albus."

Finn copied his motion. "Oh, the life of a Potter. The special treatment bruises my soul. How I wish I could have importance!" He placed the back of his hand on his head and stared at the ceiling dramatically.

Albus smacked him on the back of the head, and Finn lost his balance and toppled onto the next step, unprepared for the sudden assault. Scorpius burst into laughter, and Albus scrambled to help Finn up.

"Everything alright up there?" called M.

"Fine!" said the three boys simultaneously.

"Right, then."

M stared at them for a moment before continuing.

"Though Transfiguration can be used for storytelling purposes," Professor M continued, "It's generally not. Have any of you heard of Ilvermorny, in America?"

A few hands rose here and there, including Rose's and Scorpius's.

"Yes. It's the American school for magic, just like Hogwarts. They have this theory of fundamental elements of magic, with runes that describe them."

M drew the symbols in the air with his wand as he spoke.

"First: entropy. The manifestation of magical energy into a traditional form. Charms, Defense, the typical kinds of wand-waving magic that Muggles think about. Second, Arithmancy. Magical theory, the study of how magic can be predicted and manipulated. And last," with an extra flourish at the end, "Transfiguration. The way a living thing interacts with magic."

"You can make incantations with these runes, but that's a whole other thing," said M. "Once you get to a high level, you can cast intensely powerful Transfiguration spells without even needing an incantation. Ah, yes, a question. Name, please?"

"Talia," said Talia. "Atherton, Talia Atherton."

"Go on."

"I didn't know that Transfiguration used incantations, Professor."

"It does, indeed!" M waved his finger in the air. "Yes, Transfiguration is interesting in that sense. Your normal spells are single words, amalgamations of Latin and Greek. Transfiguration is a command in specific, formed more like a sentence. You can't use a general word to turn a button into a needle. It takes specifics, intent. That technique I used on Albus is called Human Transfiguration. You can use it to replicate the abilities of an Metamorphmagus. Does anyone know what a Metamorphmagus is?"

Rose raised her hand anxiously, beating Albus to it.

"Yes Miss...?"

"Rose Granger-Weasley," she said, standing up slightly taller.

"Ah, more famous parents! Well, go ahead Miss Granger-Weasley."

"A Metamorphmagus is an individual with the ability to alter different parts of their body to replicate the features of other people or animals."

"Good definition. Take a point for Slytherin. The thing about Human Transfiguration is that one isn't limited to animals. You could disguise yourself as nearly anything, from a half-man-half-shark to a comfortable reclining chair. Granted, there are certain physical limits. Anybody know what they are? A Ravenclaw, perhaps, to even out the point tally."

The class continued this way until its end. Albus was immensely satisfied with the way the day was shaping up, even after Professor M assigned them eight inches of parchment on the different branches of Transfiguration. Rose was positively ecstatic, having recovered from her shell-shocked state during Potions. She and Talia ran off ahead while the three boys stayed behind for a moment, allowing Albus to get his things together.

Finn and Scorpius, ever impatient, left a moment later, with Albus assuring them that he would catch up. He actually wanted to ask Professor M a question. His opportunity arose when he was the final student left in the room. Professor M was cleaning up the few ornaments of the room he had conjured during the practical lesson.

"Professor?" Albus asked, stepping down and landing on his toes. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Well, of course not, Albus," he said, walking over and crossing his arms. "Just be efficient about it. Don't want you being late for class on the first day."

"No sir. I was wondering how you got the canned noise effect to work?"

"Ah, that little thing!" He smiled. "I employed some use of Muggle technology."

"I figured as much," said Albus. "I was wondering if you could maybe elaborate? I'm trying to work around the new parameters that Headmaster Helios set up to get my phone to play music properly." He figured using a half-lie would qualify his reasoning convincingly.

Professor M looked impressed. "Albus Potter, son of one of the greatest wizards to ever live, has a Muggle phone? I'd be delighted to show you!" he exclaimed, beaming. "Helios seems to be the only person in this blasted castle who shares my interest in these kinds of Muggle devices and their integration. Save for Mister Greywater, the Activities director," he added as an afterthought. "He lived in Muggle London for about a decade."

"You should meet my grandfather," Albus said, smiling. "I think you would get along smashingly."

Professor M chuckled. "Perhaps. Well, off you go. Meet me after classes end, say Thursday? You can bring up some dinner to eat here, if you wish," he said, walking Albus to the door.

"Thank you, Professor."

Professor M nodded, looking pleased with himself. "See you around, Albus."

Albus coursed down the hallways with a new pep in his step. If he couldn't get a direct answer about the castle's magic, perhaps he could work around it using Professor M's methods. While turning the corner just outside the classroom, he ran smack into another person.

"Oh, shit, sorry," they said apologetically, stepping back. "You okay—Albus!"

"Hey, Vic," Albus muttered, rubbing his nose and looking up. "Why d'you have to be so tall?"

His cousin shrugged. "Genes?"

Victoire was in her sixth year of Hogwarts education, and the Veela characteristics she'd inherited from her mother Fleur had given her the same silver blonde hair and mesmerizing eyes. Victoire's relationship status was a subject of much debate among the Gryffindor boys, but, as James had discovered on the platform, she had been seeing his and Albus's godbrother, Teddy. Her and Albus always had a rather amicable relationship, with Victoire having been the person who taught Albus to fly a broom.

"How's your day been so far?" she asked, placing her hands on Albus's shoulders.

Albus shrugged them off, ignoring Victoire's sly smile. "Fine, I guess. The Slytherins are a lot more pleasant than you'd think."

"That's good," Victoire said. "I was afraid they'd be elitist arseholes, but it seems my fears are assuaged."

"A lot of them just get a bad rep," Albus responded. "It's nice and quiet in the common room, and most everyone's very respectful."

Well, there were of course the few who weren't. Albus received the occasional malicious stare from older students who, behind his back, claimed he was a traitor to his name and a disgrace to Slytherin house. The Slytherins who were bold enough to insult him to his face were the nastiest, of course, but they were so nonthreatening and few and far in between that Albus simply grew to ignore them. Perhaps the abuses hurled at him from the pompous Gryffindor first years had dulled their impact? Whatever the case, it was nothing Victoire needed to know.

"How about the other Gryffindors?" Albus asked.

"Worse than you'd think," Victoire muttered, unaware of what Albus really thought. "Some of the damned first years just don't know how to shut up." She patted Albus on the back. "Listen, let's catch up later. I've got to get to class."

"Same," Albus said, shouldering his rucksack. "See you."

"Don't be an idiot," Victoire said, continuing down the hallway.

"I'm not James!" he called after her.

"I know!"

Albus managed to make it to the back entrance without encountering any staircase complications. As soon as he was out of the building he broke into a run, dashing towards Greenhouse One where he could see the silhouettes of his fellow first years against the frosted glass.

He panted as he opened the door, only to find a group of four Gryffindors huddling near the doorway. Albus's mood soured upon realizing that he had to share classes with the Gryffindors. The four before him had adopted ugly looks on their faces after eyeing the House badge pinned to his chest. Albus shot them an equally ugly glare before skirting around the long work table to the back of the greenhouse, where his friends stood waving him over.

Scorpius had tucked his hands into his armpits. "It's only the first week of September and it's already colder outside than in the dungeons," he complained, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Why don't you bundle for warmth with Rose?" suggested Finn, noticing that Albus's cousin was in a similar predicament.

Scorpius smacked Finn on the back of the head. "Maybe I'll warm up if I hit you enough."

"Mate, I've been hit enough today."

"Doesn't seem like it yet."

"What did you need to ask Professor M?" Talia asked.

"Oh!" Albus's excitement returned. "I've got another lead."

"Really?" asked Rose, perking up.

"Yeah. I asked him about how he did that dry applause effect and he told me that he used Muggle technology. He hasn't told me, and I don't want to pry, but I think he may be Muggle-born. He also told me that only he and the Headmaster seem to be interested in systematic integration," Albus added. "I dunno if that's important."

"That's bloody brilliant!" said Scorpius. "You can just ask him some pointed questions and we won't even need to do research!"

Talia pursed her lips. "Why are you going through all this effort, anyways? What exactly do you plan on doing once you get your answer?"

"Well," Albus started, "I've—"

"He wants to be able to listen to his music," answered Rose, cutting him off. "I haven't known a single day before school that Albus has gone without it."

Albus gave Rose an odd look. Go with it, she mouthed.

"That sounds like an addiction," said Finn.

"Oh, it most definitely is," said Rose. "Tell them, Albus."

"I dunno if addiction is the right word," Albus said self-consciously, still feeling odd about covering up his motives. "James told me that he found me singing in my sleep one night over the summer when my parents confiscated my phone."

"Wait," frowned Scorpius. "Was that you in the shower yesterday?"

Albus's cheeks grew red as he momentarily forgot about the topic he was trying to avoid. "I dunno what you mean."

Scorpius was trying to hold back peals of laughter. "I thought it was coming from the girls' dormitory, it was so high pitched."

Albus pointed his wand at Scorpius threateningly. "Don't you dare insult my vocal range."

Talia was staring at something over Finn's shoulder. "Guys?" she asked, her voice wavering.

"Yeah?" said Albus, following her gaze. His eyes widened when he saw what Talia was staring at.

Neville was stumbling through the doorway looking thoroughly disheveled. There were holes in his robes and the sweater underneath, some large enough to reveal shallow, red cuts and scratches along his arms and legs. He had a crazed look in his eye that was unsettling, to say the least.

"Hello class," he said, sounding rather frantic. "Sorry about all this mess," he said, gesturing to the perfectly clean greenhouse. "I'm Professor Longbottom, welcome to Herbology. Unfortunately, I have some business to attend to with the Headmaster. You're all dismissed."

He jumbled his words together so quickly that even Finn was confused. Neville nodded briskly and turned on his heel, nearly sprinting out the door. Students began whispering to one another and filing out slowly.

Scorpius turned to Albus. "That doesn't seem normal."

"Trust me, it's not," Albus muttered, shouldering his bag. "I'll meet you all in the common room. I'm going to see what's going on."

"Albus, wait!" shouted Rose, too late as he shoved past the same annoyed Gryffindor students.

Albus had athleticism on his side, and he managed to catch up to Neville as the professor ran inside. He decided to trail him at a safe distance for fear of getting reprimanded or sent back if caught. Albus followed him up two flights of stairs to the second floor.

"Stupid second floor," Albus muttered. He'd not once navigated the floor without getting lost; for some reason, its layout was intensely vexing to him. While lost in his thoughts, Albus tripped on the hem of his robes coming out of the stairwell. Cursing, he rounded the corner to find Neville gone.

Albus scouted the corridor for five minutes yet saw no sign of the professor. He grunted in frustration and headed back downstairs, ignoring a large statue of a gargoyle recessed into a wall. He made his way back down to the dungeons with a feeling much unlike the one he'd felt only fifteen minutes before. He had failed. Again.

Rose was waiting for him inside the common room, sitting in the same chair Albus had waited for her in Saturday morning. She beckoned him over. He skirted around a couch occupying an older student ripping up a piece of paper and sat next to her.

"What the hell was that earlier?" he said abruptly as Rose began to open her mouth.

She sighed. "Listen, I don't know if following through with what Uncle George asked you is a good idea."

Albus rolled his eyes. "We're not having this conversation again. Why didn't you want anyone else to know?"

Rose bit her lip. "You know full well that all Weasley products have been banned at Hogwarts ever since they left—"

"What did I literally just say, Rosie!" Albus said, getting agitated. "I'm not even selling anything. I'm testing out an application for him, simple. Plus, I'm sure I can pass it off to James if it works."

"You know better than anyone that your brother is unreliable and likely to get in trouble," said Rose.

"Yes, I do know. That's why I'm perfectly fine doing this. If he gets caught, no one will think of looking to me."

"You don't even know what it does!" Rose hissed. "Or how he made it!"

"He doesn't know, either," Albus admitted. "He just kind of… willed it into existence."

Rose blanched. "What? How?"

"I literally just said I don't know. It's over my head, but you might understand. But even otherwise, why would Uncle George have any reason to hurt me?"

Rose sighed and looked at his expression for a moment before shaking her head in defeat. "I can't convince you, hmm?"

Albus placed a hand on her shoulder. "I won't be stupid. I just want to help Uncle George."

"I know, I know," she said, shrugging off his hand. "I just don't think this is the best way to do it."

Albus looked down, feeling guilty. "Fine."

"Fine, what?"

"If it makes you feel better, I won't tell anyone else," he relented. "I'll keep it to myself and we'll just pretend I have an unhealthy music addiction.

Rose smiled softly. "At least we're not completely lying."

Albus copied her smile, then processed what his cousin had just said. "Hey! I'm not addicted to my music!"

"Addiction, obsession, what does it matter what we call it?"

"I would hit you right now if you weren't a girl."

As if the day wasn't already busy enough, that evening marked the beginning of optional flying lessons. The course had been changed to an afterschool optional class after a series of injury complaints from parents, but the change did little to impact the amount of students who actually attended. Albus was among those who did, along with all of his friends except Rose, who'd stayed behind in favor of reading, something "more her speed."

Unlike his cousin, Albus was a fan of unnecessary, blistering speed, particularly the kind gained on the broom. His irritation at not having received a broom from his parents to use for flying lessons was generally mitigated by the fact that he couldn't try out, anyways; following another bout of regulatory changes, Helios had determined that first years were simply exempt from Quidditch tryouts. The policy was a hit to both him and James's ego, for the rule was put in place only a year before James was set to leave for Hogwarts, but Albus was nonetheless glad for the opportunity to hop on a broom without breaking school rules.

Talia shared his enthusiasm, even though she'd never even been on a broom. Quidditch was one of the first things she'd learned about after her acceptance to Hogwarts, and as Albus had found out on the day he met her, Talia had more knowledge of his mother Ginny, former Captain of the professional Hollyhead Harpies, than she did his father. His other friends were a different story: Finn's interest was more drawn from his like of dangerous and preposterously stupid things rather than his like of Quidditch, and Albus had practically needed to drag Scorpius along with them.

Unfortunately, Albus's eagerness swirled down the drain when he reached the Quidditch pitch to find James floating a couple meters in the air on his broom, overseeing the few students that had already arrived. Beside him was a sixth year girl who looked oddly familiar, and who was presumably the captain based on the embossed 'C' on her Gryffindor jersey.

James spotted Albus quickly and drifted over to him with a smug look on his face. "Would you look who it is," James said.

"Shut up," Albus muttered, folding his arms.

James gestured to his friends. "You going to introduce me?"

"Guys, James. James, my friends."

"Very eloquent." James cocked an eyebrow. "I expect a lot from you, little brother."

"Whatever," said Albus. "Why are you here?"

"Well, Mister Greywater had a bit of a problem with some plants at the edge of the forest. Neville's helping him reign them in."

"That's odd."

"I know." James did actually appear vaguely concerned. "It's not like the forest to act up."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Scorpius reasoned. "Magical plants do weird things all the time. That's why there's a class for them, no?"

"He's a smart cookie," said James, pointing at Scorpius.

"He's right here," Scorpius commented drily.

"I'm interested to see how Lilith takes this," James continued. "Her little brother's in your year."

"Yeah, Barry," said Talia.

"I hope he does well." James's face went dark. "Our dear captain cares a lot about her reputation."

"Oi, James!" His captain was yelling for him. "Let's start!"

"Speak of the devil." James mussed Albus's hair. "Have fun."

Albus stared angrily into his brother's back as he flew away. James twirled around and came to a swift stop, looking over the thirty or so first years with a superior look on his face.

"First years!" James yelled. "Fall in!"

Nobody moved.

"That means come here!"

The Gryffindor captain spoke as everyone settled. "Evening. I'm Gryffindor Quidditch captain Lilith Erickson. Beside me is one of our Chasers, James Potter."

James waved sardonically.

"Before you ask," Lilith continued, "Mister Greywater is otherwise preoccupied and cannot join us today. That means don't ask!" she snapped as a Hufflepuff student slowly raised their hand. They put their arm back down sheepishly. "This is a flying lesson, and what that means is no wand waving or textbook magic. Flying takes conviction, people. It means you need to want to be here. If you have a fear of heights or of intense bodily harm, please leave now."

Scorpius made to leave, but Albus grabbed his arm and rooted him in place. "You're not going anywhere," Albus said.

"Mate, why?" Scorpius hissed.

"Just trust me."

"There's a reason I never tried riding a broom at home," Scorpius responded. "It's not my thing!"

"Just try it! If you don't like it, you can leave."

"Fine."

"You all need to gather up in lines," said James, "but I'm going to make this easier. Gryffindors, here to my left. Hufflepuffs to my right. Ravenclaws and Slytherins, same thing but guide to Lilith. Well, get a move on!" James added, prompting everyone to shuffle around.

"Why are they so intense?" Talia whispered as they moved. "They seemed fine before."

"I think it's part of the vibe," said Finn.

"The what?"

"The vibe. The Quidditch vibe." Finn narrowed his eyes. "Everything is intense."

When everyone was in place, Lilith waved her wand. Out of a shed near their side of the pitch flew tens of brooms that landed next to each first year. "Everyone have a broom? Good. Now, this first part is simple. With confidence, hold your hand out over your broom and shout, 'up.' WHEN I SAY!" she yelled as some students immediately tried. "Good lord. Alright, ready? Three, two, one, UP!"

"UP!" Albus shouted. The broom flew into his hand immediately.

The same happened for the rest of his friends, including Scorpius, who was so surprised that he dropped the broom.

"What?" Scorpius whispered, looking at his hand.

"It's in your blood," Albus insisted. "Don't you know that your dad holds the Slytherin record for fastest catch of the Snitch?"

"Really?"

"Yeah," Albus insisted. "You didn't know?"

"My dad doesn't like talking about Hogwarts much." Scorpius shrugged. "I don't really know why."

"Beats me."

"Everyone got it? Good." Lilith crossed her arms. "Now mount your broom. THE STRAW END GOES BEHIND YOU, BARRY!" she roared. "You know better!"

Barry's face was an intense red after receiving a verbal lashing from his sister, but he corrected his mistake quickly.

"This part is extremely important. You need to kick off the ground. Hard. Don't be afraid, the ground won't hurt you. Envision what you want to happen. Your goal is to float just a meter in the air and stay there. Just a meter. If you fall, you'll barely get a scratch. We'll go from there. Ready? Go!"

Albus was one of the first few up, along with Talia, Felix's friend, Minnie, and a couple others. Much to his pleasure, the four Gryffindors from Herbology looked to be struggling. In fact, so many students were struggling that James flew over to Albus and asked him to help quality control, a duty Albus accepted with great satisfaction.

Scorpius was keen on staying put and Finn was keen on annoying him, so Albus brought Talia along with him. Albus never approached the Gryffindors to avoid the insults that he knew would come, instead flying past them just to really rub it in their faces without instigating confrontation. Soon enough, James and Lilith were helping out the final few, and Albus and Talia were hovering over near the opposite goalposts as Albus taught her to accelerate.

"That's it!" he encouraged as Talia zipped around the lowest hoop. "Just don't lean too fall forward and risk falling off."

"You're a good teacher," said Talia, winded. She pushed hair out of her face and smiled. "This is fun!"

"I know. Hey," Albus said, an idea forming, "what if I try to get us some extra time on the pitch? Like, after lessons?"

"How?"

"I'm sure I can convince James."

Indeed, James reluctantly agreed to let Albus and his friends stay out, but warned them that he wouldn't vouch for them if they were caught. Albus relayed the news back to his friends and received an enthusiastic hug from Talia, followed by a sharply raised eyebrow from Scorpius. Albus was just glad that neither of them could see the rosy tips of his ears under his windswept hair.