This story is about life.
Life during the single most tumultuous time of five young people's lives. A year. A glance into the events that shape the people that these teenagers will become. Friendships, unexpected romances, betrayals of trust, finding love and acceptance in both the most unlikely of places and in the places that have always been there. Unintended cruelty—and intended cruelty. Being lost when everyone else seems to have a secret map. Portraits of a strangely blended family that comes together to pull through a year of change and upheaval. Relationships form, fizzle, grow, die, and bloom. What is life? The experiences that shape you? The friendships and romances that grow and change, for better or worse? The ones that stay constant?
A/N: The long-planned sequel to my beloved Harry/Hermione post-war fanfiction, 'Stupid'. This story takes place over the year following the end of its predecessor, told from the alternating perspectives of the five kids: James, Albus, Lily, Rose and Hugo. It will focus on the next generation's lives rather than those of their parents, and will examine the effects that the events of 'Stupid' will have on them, along with plenty of individual drama that is both a result of their tumultuous family life and totally separate from it.
They made the world as it is, and now their children have to live in it. I'm going to explore that as best I can.
A brief moment of darkness, and I emerge into a world of steam, hundreds of slightly muffled chattering voices, and the fantastic bustle of September first. I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it. I kind of like being the first one onto the platform, too, just me and the train for a moment before the others come yammering in behind me. And right on cue, here they are.
"I did not say that, Albus Potter, you take it back or I'll hex you so far up your own—"
"Lily!" exclaims Mum as she comes through.
"—that you won't be able to sit for a week!"
Al grins and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, keep 'em coming. I could listen to you threaten me all day long and never get bored."
"You won't have ears where you're going," Lily growls, and Al laughs. They bicker pretty much constantly these days; I'm mostly sure it's in fun, but there's a slight possibility that I will wake up one day to find them locked in epic combat, duel-to-the-death sort of thing. Can't be helped. I won't try to stop it. Duels can be fun anyway, you know. And why would I try to stop a duel that will entertain hundreds, aside from being Head Boy and all?
Ugh, Head Boy...when Uncle Percy found out, he nearly cried. He may actually have after I left. Grandma Molly did cry. Went on for bloody hours about the honour I'd brought to the family. It's ridiculous—my dad saves the bleeding world when he was my age and I make Head Boy and somehow it's the biggest deal since England won the Quidditch World Cup a few years back...interestingly enough, also my dad's doing. Anyway. So I'm Head Boy. Still getting used to the idea. Dad says the only reason he wasn't a prefect in school was because the Headmaster thought Dad had "quite enough to be getting along with" already. What with Voldemort and stuff. I don't know if I believe him or not. Uncle Ron jokes that Dad's always been jealous of him because he was a prefect and Dad wasn't, heh; he says Dad's always thought it was so unfair that Uncle Ron could take points away from him and not vice versa.
Speaking of unfair, I'm bloody Head Boy this year and still no one will tell me what's going on. Both Dad and Aunt Hermione have been keeping something secret about school all summer long. When I got the badge with my letter, Dad laughed for about three days straight, and when he was finally able to look me in the eye again, all he said was I'd have my work cut out for me this year. How bleeding frustrating is that? What a bastard! So something's happening at Hogwarts this year. I have no idea what, but I know that something is. And I'm Head Boy for it. Great. Just fantastic.
I step back a little from the train and glance over my shoulder at Mum. She smiles distractedly, in the middle of waving to someone—oh, it's Aunt Hannah. Well, she's not really my aunt. We've just always called her and Neville Aunt and Uncle; it was so hard to start calling him 'Professor' when I got to Hogwarts and I never really got out of the habit with Aunt Hannah. She walks over to us. Wonder where Briony is. On the train already, most likely.
"Hello, Ginny! How are you? Hi James!" she says once she reaches us.
"Hullo," I nod, and Mum goes to give her a hug.
"So glad you came for tea last week, dear," Aunt Hannah says to Mum. "Basil was thrilled to see Albus and Lily. Briony missed you, though," she adds to me. I nod again and shrug guiltily, my mouth tilting up in an apologetic smile.
"Yeah, sorry, I had plans. Good to see you."
"You too, dear," she says, and then adds, "Congratulations on Head Boy. Big responsibility, that, and a big honour. Your parents must be thrilled."
"Yep."
She pats my shoulder and turns to Mum. They start chatting and I'm forgotten in roughly four seconds. Not a huge loss; I'm not really in an Aunt-Hannah-mood, she's a bit old lady-ish, always has been. Dunno why she seems that way to me, Mum loves her and Mum's pretty much the biggest social sort of person there is. Still fancies herself about thirty when she's past forty now. I love her and all, but it's a little sad when a teenage son thinks his mother should grow up a bit, no? Ah, well.
The first whistle blows. Usually we stay at Uncle Ron's place the two weeks before school starts, because Dad has go back early, but since Mum's back we just stayed with her. Haven't seen my uncle and cousins on the platform yet today. Ah, I'll find them on the train. Besides, Rose is a prefect, so I'll have to see her when I do the prefect meeting at the start of the ride. Damn it, I'm going to have to lead this bloody meeting, too, aren't I? Sigh...
I heave my trunk over to the train and lug it onboard, stuff it unceremoniously into an overhead compartment, dodge past some squealing fourth-year girls, and hop back onto the platform. Hundreds of students are squeezing onto the train behind me as I look around for Mum. Ah, there she is—oh, no, that's Lily. There's Mum, just beyond her. She waves me over. "You've got everything onto the train already, I hope?" she asks once I'm in earshot. With the steam and the chattering din, I have to raise my voice to respond.
"Yeah," I call, and she nods.
"Have a good term, then, love," she says, giving me a one-armed hug as she kisses Lily on the cheek. I hate it when she calls me that. Bugs me. Always has. "I'll see you at Christmas."
"Mmm." Ah, bit awkward, that. I'm probably going to stay at Hogwarts this year like I've been doing since she went to France. Dad's dropped a hint or two that there's going to be something happening there over the break, too, so double the reason. Best to make a noncommittal noise and say goodbye quick-like. "See you, Mum."
"You'll write to us now you're back, right?" asks Lily. Augh. Feel like my blood just froze solid. Poor kid—having to ask in earnest if her mother will bloody write to her when she's away at school. The reality of Mum being back has almost highlighted everything she didn't do when she was gone, for me at least. I'm having a little trouble adjusting. Readjusting to her, I guess. But that...that's just bloody terrible.
"Of course I will, honey," Mum assures her. "Yes. Now hop on or the train will leave without you."
"Bye, Mum," says Lily. "Love you!"
"You too, sweetie," Mum says, giving her another peck. She reaches up to pat my cheek over Lily's head. Where's Al? He's always disappearing. I barely saw him for the last two weeks of the summer we spent with Mum when Dad went back to Hogwarts to set up or do whatever professors do. "Make good choices—be well—"
Yeah, yeah. She's been spewing that stuff out all summer, trying to make up for being a terrible parent I suppose, but it comes off cheap. "Bye," I wave, stepping backwards as the second whistle blows. "C'mon, Lils!" I stretch out my hand, my sister grabs it, and I run toward the train, jumping on seconds before it starts to move and heaving Lily up beside me. We both turn and wave at Mum. Isn't Al going to even say goodbye? She's still our mother. Where is he? I'm going to have words with him, I am, once I figure out where he's gone—there he is, the bastard, just waving from his compartment! Didn't even go to give her a hug or anything! Insensitive slug, I'll kill him.
"Have a good term!" Mum's calling as we get further. "See you in a few months!"
"Bye!" Lily yells again, and now we're pulling out of the station into the open air. King's Cross slips away. I pull Lily away from the door, as it's got to close, and we step out into the main corridor. "See you later," she says to me, and walks down the train away from me.
I turn and head in the opposite direction towards the first car. I pull out my wand with one hand and a small sack out of my pocket with the other, tap the sack with the wand, and mutter, "Accio robes." My black school robes zoom out into my hand. Handy sack, that. Got it for my birthday from Aunt Hermione. She has one just like it, a little purse; she said it came in handy when she was my age, which means during the war, which means it's a good gift. I step into the first compartment by the front of the train—excellent, I'm the first one here—and change into the robes. A glance out the window shows we've almost left London behind now. There's a knock on the door. "Come in," I call, turning, and stick out my hand to shake.
"Hey, James," says the girl I assume is the new Head Girl. She tosses her dark curls out of her eyes. We sent a few owls back and forth after finding out who the other Head was, and I've seen her around the school before. She's got a firm handshake and a smile that means business. "Amelia Jordan. Already in your robes, eh?" she goes on, glancing around the compartment. "I suppose I should hop into mine, then? Appearance of unity and all. Turn round."
I blink.
"Go on, I'll be quicker than a gnomish bowel movement."
Merlin save me. I turn around.
She's right about one thing at least; she changes quickly. She taps me on the shoulder a few moments later and I glare at her. "Next time could you do that in the washroom or something?" I ask. "'Nice to meet you, I'm James Potter, let's have an innocent discussion and become acquaintances first' sort of deal?"
She shrugs. "We're sharing living quarters this year, might as well get used to it right off."
I sputter. I haven't sputtered in years. "We're going to share a common room, Amelia."
"Call me Mimi. Loosen up, James. Oh look, here're the prefects," she says, glancing at the door as it opens again. I sigh and rub my temples. Oi. I know all Ravenclaws aren't this mad, because Rose is one, and she's normal. My thoughts on the matter are put on hold, though, as all four fifth- and sixth-year prefects from Hufflepuff arrive. They're all chatting to each other. I'm about to say something welcoming, I dunno what really, when the door opens again and three of the Slytherin prefects come in. I catch Amelia's—Mimi's—eye, and we sort of hang back by the window to let the younger ones find places to sit and organize themselves a little before we start talking. The two fifth-year Gryffindors come in next, followed by Rose—she looks a little out of breath—and her friend Lawrence Davies, sixth-year Ravenclaw prefects; then the last Slytherin and the younger two Ravenclaws come in, and finally the two older Gryffindor ones squeeze into the crowded compartment. Eighteen of us altogether.
"Hullo, coz," Rose nods to me, and I grin back. The five of us—Potter kids and Rose and Hugo—always greet each other 'coz', for cousin. I clap my hands and rub them together and everyone quiets down and looks at Mimi and I, standing by the window. I glance at her. She gestures grandly for me to go ahead, and I shrug.
"Well. New prefects, welcome; old prefects, welcome back. Everyone know who I am?" There are snorts and chuckles. I sigh. "Right, stupid question..." I mutter. "Uh, well, I'm James Potter, just in case...I'm Head Boy this year, for some reason they decided I was responsible or something"—more chuckles; glad they think I'm funny at least—"and this is...Mimi Jordan?" I say, turning to her for confirmation that she wants to be introduced as Mimi rather than Amelia, and she nods and smiles. Good. "And she's Head Girl. Anyway, hope you're all up to a year of grueling hard work and no fun at all, because that's rule number one at Hogwarts of course—no fun, ever. And your jobs will be to patrol the corridors and make sure no one else has any fun, either. Get me?"
Rose raises her hand, grinning. "I have a question, Mister Potter."
"Yes, Miss Weasley?"
"What should we do if we see any fun taking place during, say, a Hogsmeade weekend? Does our jurisdiction end outside of Hogwarts or do we still have Anti-Fun Power because they're students?"
Everyone's grinning and rolling their eyes now. The fifth-years have relaxed a bit, which was, of course, my goal. "Good question. But seriously, everybody," I say, addressing the rest of the group as well now, "it's not so bad, being a prefect. All you've got to do—there is some hall patrolling, unfortunately—is basically make sure that no one's breaking the school rules too badly. I don't mean you should jump down the throat of every single first-year who's lost in the corridors after the bell rings for class, I mean important rules, like breaking up fights and making sure people aren't wandering the halls at one in the morning—unless, of course, it's my dad, on an epic mission to save the school." Everyone laughs again and I grin. "Yeah, er...so that's pretty much it. You all got letters explaining most of what you've got to do, I expect?"
"Yes, but just general stuff," pipes up the fifth-year girl from Hufflepuff. "Nothing specific."
"Alright, sorry, er...?"
"Oh—Mildred," she says, blushing. "Mildred Bottleton. I think my parents were having a laugh when they named me. I don't even have a great-aunt named Mildred or anything."
"Er, right. Speaking of, I think I know most of you, but just so everyone's familiar why don't we all say our names or something? Just go round, you don't have to say your favourite colour or anything, unless you really want to."
"Do we have to?" mutters the sixth-year Slytherin boy. I smile at him.
"Humour me. I'm James Potter."
"Mimi Jordan," says Mimi, beside me.
"Lawrence Davies."
"Rose Weasley."
"Stella Kyriacou," says the curly-haired Ravenclaw girl sitting on Rose's other side. Everyone goes dutifully around the compartment and says their name, ending with "David Blake," the older Gryffindor boy. I'm a little weirded out by the fact that he's grown a decent beard at sixteen years old. I don't see why anyone would want one, really, but am grudgingly impressed that he can grow one at all. Doesn't matter. Why'm I thinking about beards?
I clear my throat. "Excellent. Now, I'm sure you all know that there are certain leadership roles, as prefects, that you're expected to play, like getting all the first-years to their House's common areas alright tonight, just making sure the younger years all know where to go and things like that whenever there are events. You'll be able to take away House points and award them, for bad and good behaviour; I know how tempting it'll be to mess that around"—more grins around the room—"but you all got chosen because you're responsible and trustworthy, and I know you'll all do alright. Now, the House passwords—"
"I've got them all written down here," chirps Mimi, taking four pieces of parchment out of her pocket. "If everyone could join up with the other three prefects in their House, I'll hand out the passwords." Everyone shuffles a bit, but most were sitting with their own House anyway. Mimi hands out a scrap of parchment to each group of four and all of them bend their heads to read it. She leans back to speak to me in a lower voice. "You were doing so well I hated to interrupt, if you were wondering why I hadn't said anything yet," she says, and I shrug.
"Alright."
"I reckon we should have prefect meetings once a month at least," she continues. "To tell them new passwords, see how everyone's faring, just general stuff and all that. They can report if there are students with recurring behavioural problems so we can deal with them; what do you think? Last year it wasn't very organized, Emily and Peter had good intentions but I mean really, taking us aside in the corridor whenever they happened to run into us to tell us new passwords? I felt very distinctly not taken care of, don't know about you. I have heaps of ideas for establishing improvements in the general system of things this year, you know." She tosses her hair again and flashes me a grin, teeth startlingly white against her dark skin. "Sound good to you?"
"Er—sure," I nod, and gather everyone's attention again. "Hullo, so you've all got the passwords memorized, then?" General murmurs of assent. "Good stuff. Mimi and I've decided to have monthly prefect meetings with everyone—Sunday evenings or something—so we can get a bit more organized this year."
The sixth-year prefects nod and agree. "That's good," says Rose, looking relieved. "Last year was a bit of a shambles."
"That's what we were thinking, yes," says Mimi. "Right! Well, that's mostly everything then I think, yes?" She looks to me.
"Guess so. One of us," I gesture to myself and to Mimi, "will get in touch with each of you about the first meeting, maybe in a week or so, to work out patrol schedules. And from there we'll see how things go. Any questions?" Nobody raises their hand or speaks up. I nod. "Well, good then. Have a good day, see you all at the feast."
Chatter bubbles up as everyone stands and shuffles toward the compartment door. Mimi pauses and swings around, shaking my hand again. "Pleasure to be working with you, James; I'm sure it'll be a spiffing year." I'm too busy blinking in bemusement to answer her before she flounces away out of the car, leaving me alone. Well, guess I'd better go find my friends.
xXx
"Bye Mum!" I yell, leaning out of the compartment window and waving as the train starts to pull away from the platform. I feel kind of bad for not going to say goodbye properly, but I hugged her this morning. Quite proud of myself for that. Didn't even shake her off after a second. She probably didn't notice. Real gem, Mum is. I heard her saying those stupid lines again as she was saying goodbye to Lily and James—'make good choices!' Yeah, like we've got an example of that from her. I don't need that. I don't need to hear that. Ugh. I've got to find Rose and Scorpius.
I push away from the window and let it slide shut. Out in the corridor people are still milling about—we've only just left the station—and seeing which compartments are taken, meeting up with their mates they haven't seen all summer. Someone calls my name and I turn around.
"There you are! Where were you on the platform, eh?" says Timothy Wood. He and I sat together in Charms all last year; pretty funny guy. Not quite in the mood for him and that crowd, though. I want to shake off these last two weeks and relax.
"Nowhere, mate. Been well?"
"Yeah, look, got a set of your uncle's fireworks for my birthday, they're brilliant—"
"You seen my cousin anywhere?" I don't even care that I'm cutting him off.
"Yeah, she and the blond kid were holed up in a compartment one car back. What's his name, Scorpio?"
"Scorpius," I correct him, a little coolly. Tim's starting to bug me.
"Dodgy family, mate. Why're you friends with him?" Who does this guy think he is? "Come sit with the football club, we've got most of us packed into two cars further down along—"
"Another time. See you, though," I say as I gently push past him. He shrugs.
"Alright, cool. Later, Al!"
Ugh.
I glance into several compartments—including one that has a couple wrapped so thoroughly around each other that I almost gag—before I find my two best mates. I'm well pleased they scored our own room. I pause for a moment before opening the door; Scorpius has got out a sheet of parchment that he's showing Rose, and she's leaned over to look at it. Suddenly I don't want to interrupt. They're just talking quietly. I can't hear through the glass. After a moment or two I realize it'll be creepy if one of them looks up and sees me—but neither seem to have noticed me standing here yet. Ah well, my feet hurt. I open the door.
Rose jumps a little and scoots away from Scorpius, sliding along the bench cushion. "Oh—oh! Hi, Albus!" she says, and gets to her feet to hug me.
"Hey, coz," I grin. "Don't you have to go do prefect things?"
Her face drains of colour. "Oh, bollocks. Back later, guys!" she says quickly, and dashes out the door, calling a greeting to someone as she hurries off. Lawrence, I think. Another Ravenclaw friend of hers, the other prefect. I slide the door shut behind her, shaking my head as Scorpius chuckles.
"She's funny."
"Yeah. How was your summer, mate?" I ask, sitting down across from him. He shrugs.
"Eh. Could have been better, could have been worse."
"Same here."
"My father tried to tell me off again for associating with you two. I pretty much just ignore him at this point when he gets like that."
"Yeah...had to spend the last two weeks with the Hag."
"That bad, huh?"
"Can't stand her. She tries to be all mothering, she even baked us cookies one day; I think she's trying to be more like my grandmother or something...honestly, it's like, does she think if she's super-sweet to us now it'll make up for dropping us like hot coals when she left? Wake-up call, no thank you. I didn't even want to do the two weeks at her place, but I have to, because Dad goes back to the school early to do whatever he does. Hey," I add, a thought just occurring to me, "by the way, do you know what's happening at Hogwarts this year?"
"Something's happening?" Scorpius sits up straighter. "What is it?"
"Ah, no, I hoped you'd know, Dad's been dropping hints and being stupid and secretive and wouldn't say anything else—damn. Guess we'll find out tonight."
"Probably. How's, ah, your new stepmum? Was it awkward at all, when she was staying with you guys?" he asks. I shake my head.
"Not at all, really. I mean she's our aunt, right, so it's not as though she's a stranger or anything, and they were very good about not being over-the-top lovey-dovey whenever any of us were around, so it was kind of...like it's always been, just without Mum and Uncle Ron, which has happened before anyway, so there you go. Pretty normal-seeming."
"She's not trying to replace your mum or anything? Remember when Greg's dad remarried?"
"Yeah, he bitched and moaned about her all through Potions that whole year, no wonder he failed...no, not at all, Hermione's been great. Nothing like that. I mean we've always got along well with her, she half-raised us too, y'know? Her and Uncle Ron? Our two families have been thick as thieves since the parents were our age, they were always over at ours and we were always over at theirs. Not much of a difference. Except no Mum. Wish she'd stayed gone, to be honest."
"Ah, no, really?"
I shake my head again. "Seriously, mate. Unbearable. Dunno why Lily likes her so much."
"What about your brother?"
"Bah. James doesn't know what he wants. He's like the middle ground, if Lils and I are polar opposites."
"It's only two weeks out of the summer, though?"
"Well, plus the one week in July. Three altogether. I almost didn't go, the first week, just wanted to stay with Dad, but he made me because the other two were going. Said it was healthy to have a relationship with my mother. I say bullcrap."
"I guess."
We talk for a while. Mostly just about the summer. I've missed this—just hanging out with a good friend and chatting about whatever comes to mind. Don't get much of that over the holidays, at least not this year. I love my family, don't get me wrong, but because things have been a bit mad, we didn't get to see Rose and Hugo very much, and James and Lils are great when they're not being royal pains but I can't talk to them about stuff like I can talk to Scorpius. Even though Rose has been my best friend since we were born, she's my cousin, and she's a girl. You can't talk to girls about some stuff. Like girls.
Things have been pretty mad. Mum back. Dad with Aunt Hermione. We decided not to tell Rose and Hugo the whole story about them—how Hermione was drooling for Dad when they were James's age, and he fell for her in their twenties, and the whole non-affair that went on for practically our whole lives. We (me, James, Lils, and my dad) figure if Rose and Hugo are cool with the relationship, which they are, then there's no reason to disrupt that. Rose thinks it's sweet anyway, that they found each other after their separations. Why wreck that for her?
Not much to tell anyway. Nothing did ever happen, they just sort of did nothing about it until it made sense. Good of them not to, really, too, since they both knew it and they both wanted to. Would've gotten bloody ugly though. They discovered each fancied the other just when Mum got pregnant with Lils and Hermione with Hugo, so if they'd split then it would've been messy, and if they'd cheated, well, that would've been a whole different kettle of Puffskeins, I tell you that. Ergh, that was a Dad-ism.
Scorpius and I look up when the compartment door opens, the noise from the hall briefly filling the small space. Rose slips in and shuts it behind her. She rolls her eyes at us before sitting down beside me. "Honestly, the first-years get smaller every year. I just about tripped over one on my way back here." She sighs. "I'm so glad James is Head Boy. He's got some sense in him at least. Last year the two Heads were seeing each other and they never got anything done because of it; or that's why I think it was. Either that or they were both just sadly disorganized. Anyway, you know Mimi Jordan, Uncle George's friend Lee's daughter? She seems like she's got a good head on her shoulders—she's Head Girl. Bit chirrupy though. Goodness, I'm thirsty, hope the trolley comes soon," she adds. I'm astonished. Don't think I've ever heard Rose say that much so fast before, she's usually much quieter. Wonder what's up.
Scorpius raises his eyebrows at me and I shrug a little. Rose gets up again and sits on the other side of me by the window, props her chin on her hand, and stares out at the passing countryside. Restless too. Very odd behaviour. I decide to break the ice by asking, "So what were you looking at before I came in earlier?"
She blinks, then remembers. "Oh, that—Scorp was just showing me his O.W.L.'s. He got three O's, you know."
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter. I got one.
"Cheer up," says Scorpius, reclining on the bench with his arms up over the back of the cushion. "You can't have everything in life, wouldn't be fair. There's got to be even distribution, see? Miss Brains and her nine O's have got the wits, I've got the looks, and you've got the...er...brawn, or something."
"Oh, thanks," I groan as Rose laughs. "Really excellent to be the stupid troll in the group."
Scorpius grins. "That's life, mate."
"Bastard."
"You know it."
"Something from the trolley, dears?" comes a new voice as the plump old witch pokes her head into our compartment. Brilliant, I'm hungry. I get up, digging in my pockets for some change, and the other two do the same. Scorpius hesitates and turns to us.
"Could one of you buy me something to eat while I run to the washroom really quick? I didn't go before I left, like an idiot."
"No problem," says Rose, and he drops a few coins into her hand before slipping by the trolley witch and hurrying down the hall. Rose selects a few pumpkin pasties and some licorice wands for Scorpius and two bottles of pumpkin juice for herself along with some candied mice, while I get half a dozen chocolate frogs, some juice, and a big marsh venison sandwich. We thank the lady and sit down. The second the door is closed I turn on Rose.
"You still fancy him."
She turns bright red. "I—I thought it had gotten better over the holidays; I thought if I just didn't see him for a while it would go away," she says in a small voice, stammering a little. "Today made it all come back though." She lifts the front of her shirt and hides her face in embarrassment. "Argh, Albus, it's worse than I remember. You—you haven't told anyone, have you?" she asks, peeking over the top of the fabric, her eyes round as saucers. "Because...that would be horrid."
"No, course not," I answer truthfully. "You know I'd never, come on, Rosie." She blushes harder and her hair slides down to cover her forehead. She mumbles something. I lean closer. "What's that?"
"I said I hate this," she says, coming out of her shirt looking woeful. "I have to sit here and look at him and listen to him and be his friend and it just hurts, it sucks pickled eggs because I know I'm not his type or anything so what's the use bothering about it at all but you can't control this sort of thing you know and it's just BOLLOCKS. And I can't talk to anyone about it except you, and you're his best mate and it's not fair to make you keep secrets from him. So it all just bloody blows."
"Aw, it's not so bad as all that," I say, slinging an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. "I'm sure you'll get over it soon, or he'll come round and see the light and it will all be dandy again."
"But what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Right now?"
"Maybe you just have to accept that it's going to suck for a while until you get over him."
"Bloody field day that'll be," she mutters. I laugh.
She started to fancy our Slytherin friend last year. Said there had been a time when she'd seen him looking at another girl and realized she was jealous, and then found herself thinking about him more and more till she got in a tizzy whenever he so much looked her way. She kept it to herself for a long while until I caught her doodling his name on a piece of homework. That was pretty funny. Then she had to tell me the whole thing.
That was last...November. Wow, 's been a while since then. Almost a whole year now since I found out, and more than that since it actually started I guess. Got to be difficult. I dunno that I've really ever taken a special fancy to anyone; nobody's seemed that interesting, to be honest. Though that's not to say no one's been interested. I'm probably the most sought-after male at Hogwarts. Mind you, my brother's pretty up there too—he's just unaware of it. Me, I know. Hard not to when girls are practically throwing themselves at you.
Like now, for instance. Rose and I look up at a sound from the hall outside—and three sixth-year Gryffindor girls, all in my class, fall about giggling, having been staring at my cousin and I through the glass. One of them waves and mouths, 'Hi Albus!' What the bleeding devil are you supposed to do when people are being this ridiculous? I lift a hand, rather halfheartedly, in acknowledgement, and the three girls laugh and prance off.
Rose shrugs out from under my arm and turns to give me a pointed questioning look. I shrug, as confused by their behaviour as she is. What else can I do?
"You have a fan club now, then?" she asks.
"What—no! They're just weird, they can't keep straight faces whenever I so much as bloody look at them, I dunno what they—"
"You really shouldn't encourage them by waving back," she sniffs, and I'm about to protest when I see the smirk forming on her face.
"You're just a bugger," I growl, and it's her turn to laugh at me.
"I enjoy your haplessness. If that makes me a bugger, so be it," she says, and then the door opens and Scorpius comes back in.
"What's so funny?"
Rose, damn it, sees fit to entertain him with the news of my 'fan club'. I sigh and lean back as much as I can on the cushioned bench seat, content to tune the both of them out. I take out my sandwich and eat it as the other two talk, and sigh contentedly as I'm chewing. This is what I needed. This relaxes me. Already I feel better about everything, and we're not even halfway through the train ride yet. Stupid Mum can go suck pickled eggs. I'm happy.
xXx
"You've got everything?" Dad asks me, and I nod impatiently.
"Yeah, yeah, and if I forgot anything you can owl it to me—the whistle's blowing, Dad, I've got to go, Rose is already on the train!"
Dad sighs. He ruffles my hair. "Alright, alright, I'll let you go. Have a good year, Hugo."
"Yep, 'bye!"
I turn around and am about to run off when I feel my dad's hand on my shoulder. I glance back at him. He looks stressed or something. Come on, come on, I've got to go... "I...want you to know how much I love you," he says sort of awkwardly. Weird. Dad's never like this. Emotional I mean, not awkward. He's awkward a lot. "If you need to talk this year, just owl me, okay? I don't want you to...I'm still your old dad, Hugo, and I miss you two when you're off at school."
Oh, jeez. He's probably worried that Uncle Harry's going to replace him now that he's with Mum. "I'll owl you," I assure him. "Love you too, Dad!" I give him a quick hug and then the whistle blows again and I really have to go so he claps me on the back and I race onto the train and push through all the students till I find a window to wave out of and I spot my dad on the platform—his hair always makes him stand out—and I wave furiously until we're out of the station. Then I pull myself back in and get out into the still-crowded corridor to find my friends. As I push past one compartment I hear a familiar voice call my name.
"Hugo!"
I turn, and my best mate Jason Schaeffer is grinning at me, pushing open the door to let me in. He's sitting across from two other boys in our year who I know, but I'm more acquaintances than friends with. I go in and sit beside Jason. "How've you been, mate?" I ask, and suddenly I feel really weird—normally I'd hug him or something, but there are people here. I don't know why that makes a difference. Gah. With a little jerk I shake off the feeling and listen to his answer.
"Great, I had a fantastic time!"
Jason was in Greece with his family this summer. He sent a couple of owls with pictures. I've got them in my trunk. "Cool. What'd you do? It was fun?"
"So much fun. Hah, I met this crazy old warlock who thought he was Socrates, he was yelling in the street in this wizards' market about how the youth had to rebel, and he said hello to me kind of creepily and Mum freaked out and hexed him, right in the middle of the street! We had to go down to the Athens International Statute of Secrecy Office for International Relations or some mad place like that, it was awesome!" I let him go on, content to listen. The only traveling our family's done has been when we were all little kids, so I love hearing about trips to other places around the world. Jason's parents are pretty loaded—his dad's a Muggle, and he owns a TV station—so he travels a lot in the summers. It means I don't get to see him over the holidays, but he always comes back with great stories, so it evens out.
Jason's great. He was a big help a year and a half ago when my parents split up. I was so angry with them...it was something that was supposed to happen to other people, but never you, y'know? Parents divorcing? I had a lot of trouble with it. But Jason helped. He distracted me, would help me out when I'd missed class because I was too upset or angry to go, things like that...just a really good guy. I'm lucky to have him for a friend, I really am.
We pass a couple of hours this way, just chatting about our summers (mostly his, as his was more interesting) and stuff. We each get some candied mice from the trolley when it comes. The other two boys in our compartment talk quietly for a bit until one falls asleep, and then the other one does too half an hour later. Jason nods at the one on the left—he's begun to drool. We crack up silently.
It's mid-afternoon when it happens. Jason and I are tossing bits of candied mouse at each other, trying to catch them in our mouths while not waking up the other two, and we each toss a bit at the same time—he goes for mine and I go for his and he leaps in his seat and lands on top of me with an elbow in my gut. "Cor!" I gasp, completely winded. Jason guffaws silently. After a second I start to get my breath back—and he still hasn't moved. Suddenly I'm hyperaware of the fact that he's clean-shaven. He smells of minty aftershave and candy. He's looking up at the door, still snickering. Has it only been a couple of seconds? Merlin, I've lost my breath again, it's all gone out of me. What's happening? Oh, god, why's he still on top of me? "Gerroff me, you lug," I gasp, and he seems to notice I can't breathe. Finally he wiggles backwards onto the seat.
"Sorry, mate," he grins, totally unaware.
What the fuck just happened to me?
xXx
"James!" choruses about eight voices at once.
I lift a hand in greeting as I slide open the compartment door. "Hey, guys." Everyone goes back to talking and the noise level rises again. A quick glance around the tightly packed space shows me my best mate Luke Lalloway, my other best friend Briony Longbottom, two other seventh-year Gryffindor girls and four boys, two Ravenclaw, two Gryffindor. The group makes up all of my good friends at Hogwarts.
"Hey," says Briony warmly, getting to her feet and stepping over a tangle of legs to meet me at the door. I lean down to give her a hug. She squeezes once and lets go, then smirks and flicks me on the forehead. "Dolt. Why didn't you come for tea last week? I had to be part of the adult conversation and all they talked about was recipes for casseroles, if you can believe it."
"Ah, I'm sorry," I say as we pick our way back to where she was sitting. We both pause. Hmm. Not much room for me in here, is there? I guess nine is a lot of people to cram into one of these train compartments. Probably a violation of some obscure and ancient rule. I'll have to brush up on that. Not that I care right now, of course. Briony's shooing Hector Merino (one of the Ravenclaw guys, he's a bloody genius, you can't talk to him about anything academic) to the side, squishing Sarah and Brittney against the wall and making enough room for me on the seat. "I don't want to take your spot," I protest mildly, and Briony gives me the look. I sit. You don't mess with Briony's look.
I discover the reason for her giving me her seat a moment later, when she sits on me. "Anyway," she says, sticking her nose in the air, "it was a dreadfully boring visit without you and I forbid you to leave me alone with them ever again."
"I'm sorry, I had plans to go to Luke's for a weekend, we'd planned it all summer."
Briony harrumphs. "Fine. But I missed you."
I grin. "Missed you too, oaf." She yelps when I poke her in the side and fixes me with a glare. "Well, if you're going to crush my legs then I'm going to abuse you," I say as though it's the most logical thing in the world. From the disdainful silence I gather that I'll be gotten back at for that before we get to Hogwarts.
"So how's life, Sir Head Boy?" asks Merino a moment later, unsuccessfully trying to pull himself out from under Brittney's legs that just landed on top of him. He winks at me. "Heard Mimi Jordan's your partner in Anti-Crime. Gonna take sweet, sweet advantage of the shared living space this year?"
"Why is it that the smartest geeks are always the most vile boys?" asks Sarah, who's listening in.
"They've got no other outlet," offers Brittney. "They never get laid."
The lot of us laugh. Brittney Macdonald's the girly-girl of the group. She has a different hairstyle every week (today it's long, brown, and bone-straight) and apparently has decided that heavy eye makeup is her thing. 'Sarah, last name Gregory'—ash-blonde hair and grey eyes with supernaturally long eyelashes—was Brittney's friend growing up; they're both Muggleborn. Britt introduced Sarah to us in first year. She was kind of shy and very socially awkward—her parents were recluses and she'd been homeschooled with little social interaction until she was ten. She and Brittney were next-door neighbours. It's significantly rare to have two Muggleborns who know each other before they get their letters, and even rarer for them to be so close. It was an anomaly, that's for sure. Right now Merino's ignoring the girls, pressing me, "Seriously! Are you or are you not going to hit that this year? Because I will respect your boundaries if you are but by Merlin tell me now if you're not, because Miss Jordan is one sweet piece of meat!"
I groan. "Don't hurt yourself, Merino. She didn't seem like the type to put up with your crap."
He's practically salivating now. "Dominatrix too then, eh? Better and better!"
"Are you lot talking about Mimi Jordan?" asks Colin from across the compartment. Colin Smith, he's the other Ravenclaw; his giant head of golden brown dreadlocks and big, dark eyes have got several females drooling for him. I remember when Sarah crushed pretty hard on him for a month last year. The group has survived pretty well unscathed by inter-friend relationship drama so far, though, which is good; if everyone started dating each other I'm pretty sure the group would disintegrate pretty fast. It's an easy enough unspoken rule to live by.
"Yeah," says Britt. "Why?"
"She's loony," Colin grins. "I asked her out once. Never been more confused by a turn-down in my life. She said she wanted to focus on her activism and while she was flattered, she wasn't shaving at the moment because she was protesting deforestation in Africa, and didn't think she could sustain a relationship when so many trees were being cut down to make wands."
"I...I think I'm in love," says Merino. We all guffaw. "I will make it my mission to deflower that precious morsel if it is the last thing I do. After passing my N.E.W.T., of course."
"Of course," I laugh. I can't tell when he's being serious or not sometimes. I'm about to comment on the contents of his brain when all the wind is knocked out of me via a gentle elbow to the solar plexus. Coughing and gasping for air, eyes watering, I glare up at Briony. She's deep in conversation with Matt and Alex (the other two guys from Gryffindor). There is, however, a small smirk on her face that she is utterly failing to conceal. I let my head fall forward with a thud into her back, resting it there until I can breathe properly again. Oh, I see how it's going to be. She reaches back without looking and pats my hand. Condescending hag.
I grin.
xXx
"There you are!"
Cameron Canterbury—pretty, blonde, skinny as a rail—squeals, runs forward, and hugs me. I laugh and plant a kiss on her cheek. "Hello, love," I say with a sunny smile. She pulls back and her eyes go round and nearly pop out of her head.
"Oh my god, you're not wearing glasses!"
My mouth stretches into a really big grin. "Nope. Mum took me to a place this summer and they fixed my vision. No more specs for me!"
"That's brilliant!" Cameron shrieks, and hugs me again.
I laugh and ask, "So, I'm good; how's my best mate doing?"
"I'm well, thanks," jokes the tall, long-haired boy coming up behind Cameron. Stephan Robins. They started dating just before school let out in June.
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, right. If hell froze over and I sprouted wings, it still wouldn't be as unlikely as you being any mate of mine, much less my best."
"Ouch, Lily," he grins, clutching at his chest. "You'd think you hated me or something."
"Hatred would imply that I cared at all."
"Oh, be nice," clucks Cameron, linking arms with me and walking down the train's slowly emptying corridor. "I love you both. The least you can do is be civil to each other when I'm around," she pouts. I sigh and lean my head briefly on her shoulder.
"I can try, but that's all I'm promising."
She laughs. Stephan walks on her other side so we're three abreast and taking up the whole width of the hallway. "Edward's saving a room for us just up ahead," he says. Edward St. Bell is Stephan's best mate. Just as annoying and even less good-looking, which is a feat. Well, Stephan's not bad. But his personality rules him out. So full of himself. I don't know what Cameron sees in him. Both he and Edward are on the Gryffindor Quidditch team—they're Beaters, of course—so it seems I can't escape them no matter what I do. I'm Seeker.
We get to the compartment Edward's saved for the four of us and get settled in for the long train ride. Cameron brought Exploding Snap, and we amuse ourselves with it for hours. The trolley comes and goes and we break for snacks, then go back to playing. I can't help noticing that Edward's been checking me out. I mean, great, it's...kind of flattering, but a little odd for me to be on the receiving end of a do-me look, especially from him. Whatever. I don't think anything of it until the boys go off in search of Rory Cleaver (seventh-year girl, our Quidditch team captain) to ask about something, and Cameron scoots over to me.
"Lily! Well!" she says in an excited whisper. I glance around.
"Why are we whispering?" I whisper back.
She giggles and it turns into another squeal. She leans closer. "Congratulations on getting hot!"
...Okay, what?
I take a moment to evaluate the situation. Cameron's pretty. Like, walks-by-and-chaps-drool pretty. She always has been. Blonde, busty, big blue eyes kind of thing. Me, I've got my red hair and brown eyes and freckles, and I'm a stick. I guess maybe I've gone up a bra size since last year. Got a hint of cleavage going on, or starting to anyway. I did grow an inch over the summer. And my hair's gotten more under control, too. Mum bought me a straightener. It runs on magic and will never burn you; I've been figuring out how it works. And I did lose the glasses so people can see my eyes now. Even if they're not Dad's green—damn Albus for getting them, damn him—they've got little flecks of gold in them sometimes, if you look at them in the right light, and they're not so bad.
Hmm.
Lily Potter? Hot stuff? Pfft. Yeah, right. Though Edward was staring. I'm still pondering it when we all feel the train start to slow down hours later. Maybe this year will be...interesting.
xXx
A/N: Let me know who you'd like to see more from, and I'll try to focus more on those characters. Your input is valuable, and I love to hear from you!