Thicker Than Blood

by MissusWitch

Prejudice runs rampant even in a world without Lord Voldemort, but when a Potter boy is sorted into the House of Slytherin, the next generation is set to change forever. This is the story of Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy, and how their friendship guided each other in times of love and strife. AL/OC, SM/RW

16. In Defense Of Who We Love

First of all, I'd like the apologize for the wait. I've had a really rough time at home recently due to some personal issues and unfortunately, it's taken a toll on my writing.

BUT good news is that here's the first chapter in awhile…and it's a long way. In addition, you will all be looking forward to all the additional chapters I will be posting quickly over the summer break to make up for lost time.

Thanks to all the people who reviewed/followed/favorited. It's nice to know you all value this story enough to wait for it

A much needed recap on chapter 15:

Louis arrives at Hogwarts and is looking for a friend. He finds a kindred bond in Carpathia and tells her he thinks she's still in love with Al. Scorpius and Chantal have broken up and Chantal goes into a bitch-rage at Rose, accusing her of being the primary reason. Rose and Scorpius have an awkward moment outside of Muggle Studies, which Scorpius has signed up for because (supposedly) he met Rose's grandparents. Carpathia figures out that Isabel and James snogged at least once beside Al's back.

Chapter 16: In Defense of Who We Love

"Harry Potter."

The broom cupboard was dark and a little dusty but Al didn't mind. He didn't mind skiving Potions either and he especially didn't mind the fact that Isabel's legs were wrapped around his waist and that his hand had just slipped up her shirt. Al had only recently discovered the wonders of the female body, and by Dumbledore's saggy arse, he didn't mind at all.

He was pulled out of this heavenly stupor by the sound of his father's name on Isabel's lips.

Al pulled away and responded a matter-of-factly:"Voldemort."

"Sorry?" Despite the incredulity in her expression, Isabel's cheeks were flushed a lovely shade of magenta. Because of me, thought Al with satisfaction.

"Oh, I thought you were just naming important people in the war," said the boy with an offhanded shrug and Isabel burst into giggles.

"No! I was-" She paused momentarily to settle herself as another giggle ruptured from her mouth. "I was just saying that your father's coming to school today. In fact, I reckon he's here already."

"Oh, that's…" Al leaned in and kissed her again, molding himself over her petite frame. He felt her fingers twine in his hair and his mind promptly lost itself in clouds. "…So utterly irrelevant right now."

"Al-" Isabel protested but her lips were muffled by his own. He felt her laughter tickle his mouth. "Al, I'm serious-" Her hand reached down toward his abdomen and she gently pushed him away.

Al stiffened in shock and Isabel followed suit a second after, both of them realizing that she'd accidentally brushed her hand against a very fundamental aspect of the male anatomy. He disentangled himself from her, his heartbeat suddenly rocketing up to what seemed like a million beats a minute.

"Oops," said Isabel with a nervous chuckle. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No that's okay," assured Al weakly, glancing down at his trousers, which was pitching quite a tent so to speak. "It's, uh, a normal reaction, I suppose." He glanced at her hastily. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Well, it's—um, flattering," said Isabel, her voice arched a little higher than normal, but he took the pinkness in her cheeks as a good sign. "I reckon we should get going though. People will be waiting for us at the Banquet Hall."

"Right, yeah," agreed Al, a little forlornly. He took several steps away from her and inhaled deeply. "Just give me second to, uh, settle down." He winced inwardly at the pun and she laughed again.

There were several long stretches of silence, but then Al heard a rustle and all of a sudden Isabel was standing quite close to him again. "Al?"

He turned to her questioningly. She's so beautiful. Her large doe-eyes, a color that always reminded him of daffodils in a meadow, stared up at him and she smiled.

"Al," she repeated softly, and his heart shuddered at the sound of his name on her lips. "I'm so happy."

Al was only sixteen, but he knew the overpowering emotion in his gut was genuine. He thought of all those years he'd spent as a freckly, scrawny Slytherin pining after the girl of his dreams. He thought about all the long nights, the heartbreak, and how the moment she'd said 'yes' all of it had changed. He thought about how utterly, utterly lucky he was; to be one of the rare few that ever got to be with the people they wanted.

Al was only sixteen but the words flowed out on their own accord and they felt right. "I love you."

She didn't say it back but those beautiful daffodil eyes drunk him in and a hand came up to stroke the side of his face. When she leaned in and planted her lips on his, Al didn't need an answer.

AAA.

Scorpius thought Harry Potter didn't look much like the man described from the history books. The legend was the picture of simplicity, dressed only in a maroon woolen sweater and black trousers. His raven hair was as unkempt as Al's, the ostentatiousness of his clothes was kept to a minimum, and his pale jaw-line was not entirely clean-shaven. He was rather short as well, which made it difficult for Scorpius to keep on eye on him because he disappeared easily behind the crowd of onlookers and admirers.

When it was clear he wouldn't be able to look past the craning heads of other students, Scorpius' eyes fell back to his breakfast and he pointedly ignored the rest of the Banquet Hall, which was manic with the hero's arrival. The room was covered in banners of various shapes and sizes, from the simple faculty greeting ('Welcome back to Hogwarts, Harry Potter') to heart-shaped adoring accolades ('We don't mind your scars, Harry!'). A group of Hufflepuff fourth-year girls had even drawn lightning-shaped scars on their foreheads.

This. Is. Mental. That was all Scorpius had to say about it.

"Wotcher." Al swept by the Slytherin table and plunked down across from Scorpius, looking fairly nonchalant about the whole ordeal. He was wearing an extremely annoying smile.

"What are you so chipper about?" inquired Scorpius, raising his eyebrows.

Al merely grinned in reply before stuffing a croissant into his mouth. Ah. Of course. Scorpius answered in his head. He snuck a glance at Isabel Marrieto, who was now scampering to join the crowd of onlookers.

It was depressing to think how their roles had switched. Potter was now the one using the Marauder's Map to find empty broom closets in the morning, and Scorpius was the one rolling out of bed with nothing but a day full of classes to look forward to.

"This is mental, isn't it?" observed Al.

"I was just thinking it," answered Scorpius as he poured himself a glass of milk. "Shouldn't you go over there or something? Give dear old dad a kiss?"

"Hell no," grimaced Al, his smile dropping for the first time. "It's too early to be photographed by the Daily Prophet. If he wants to say hello, he'll come to me. I'm his son after all."

Scorpius had noticed out of the corner of his eye that Chantal was snogging Desmond McCormack quite avidly on the Hufflepuff table. He smirked to himself.

Al followed his train of vision and whistled. "She moves fast. From you to Head Boy, eh?"

"McCormack deserves that badge as much as Hagrid deserves the Olympic gold for gymnastics," responded Scorpius, "At any rate, it doesn't matter since I'll be Head Boy next year."

Al's eyes widened at the proclamation. "Did I just hear you giving a shit about something for once in your life?"

"I've always given a shit, Potter. You're the one with barely a teaspoon of ambition."

"Do you really think insulting the son of the Auror department's former head is going to get you into the program?" inquired Al with false solemnity, and Scorpius answered by smacking the boy's head with a rolled-up Witch Weekly on the table.

"Oi! What was that, Malfoy?" exclaimed Al in outrage. He grabbed the magazine before Scorpius could get his hands on it again.

Scorpius ducked, chortling, and found himself lobbed beneath the eye as Al responded in kind. "You're a prick, Potter," scowled Scorpius, rubbing the aforementioned sore spot. "At least I was original."

"Are you two finished with your cute little catfight?" Scorpius was entirely unsurprised to see Lily Potter standing in front of them again. She had a nasty habit of sneaking up on people. "Good, because I need somewhere peaceful to sit. The Gryffindor table's gone bonkers."

Without another word, the redheaded girl flounced over and flopped next to Al, resting her head on the table with a peeved expression. She promptly reached over to the main platter and picked off a sausage.

"This is the Slytherin table," said Scorpius pointedly.

"So?"

"You are a Gryffindor," he emphasized extra slowly.

"Lay off. She's my sister," scolded Al, which prompted Lily to flash Scorpius a triumphant smile. Scorpius grumbled but resumed eating. It was astonishing to see how much brother and sister looked alike with their narrow faces and bright, round eyes.

"James is here," announced Lily. Al rounded on her with a surprised expression.

"I thought he was training full-time with the Cannons."

"Oh he is, but they're having some sort of mid-season break or whatever Quidditch nonsense so he decided to tag along with dad," she replied, waving her hand airily and having already diverted her attention. "Are you going to have those eggs, Al?"

Al pushed his plate at her distractedly. "It makes no sense for the Cannons to have a mid-season break…are they trying to turn out bottom of the table this year…"

"Probably has something to do with the Ferguson scandal," reasoned Scorpius as he cut his toast in half, "Pillock should have known better than to sleep with his teammate's wife. I reckon one of them resigned and they're looking for replacements."

"And rumor has it they're looking to sign Afanasi, which might take awhile considering it's the Cannons," continued Al amusedly, "But then again, the offer's at three million…"

Scorpius smirked. "Even with three million Galleons a year, Afanasi would never stoop so bloody low to play with a horde of no-good, cocky…"

The two boys glanced at each other and said simultaneously, "Wankers." They both grinned.

Lily stared at the boys, her lips quivering with barely-concealed laughter. "Are you two sleeping together or what?"

"Shut up, Lil."

"Who's sleeping together?" The interruption was Carpathia. She slid gracefully into the seat beside Scorpius and her eyes darted curiously between the three heads, no doubt fostered by what she'd overheard.

"Al and Scorpius. Haven't you heard?" quipped Lily sweetly.

"About time then," answered Carpathia with a smile.

"Why are there two Gryffindors sitting at this table? " complained Scorpius rather obnoxiously.

"Gareth's my brother," pointed out Carpathia. Then she reached out to the fruit-basket and plucked a grape from its stem, promptly settling the matter.

"Speaking of brothers, I think I just saw James," she added with a careful glance at Al.

"So everyone keeps telling me. Where is the prat anyway?"

"You mean James? I'd say he's probably catching up with the rest of the prats in Gryffindor Tower," chimed in Louis, who entered the conversation by dropping into the seat next to Carpathia.

"Hullo, you," greeted Louis as he poked the girl cheerfully in the ribs. Carpathia grunted in response.

Scorpius felt an immediate stab of irritation at the sight of the boy grinning ear to ear. His teeth were so damn white he might as well have taken a swig of bleach. Scorpius wished he had.

"I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be intelligent," he sneered. He didn't like feeling threatened, but Frenchy's sickeningly slick looks was putting him second-best in appearance and he couldn't have that. He could sense the boy's self-confidence oozing out of every pore in his skin. "This is the Slytherin table."

"I think we've established that no one cares," yawned Al, stuffing his mouth full of sausage.

"Are you wearing the newest set of Adonis and Aravisrobes?" remarked Louis interestedly. He reached out and touched the sleeve of Scorpius' shirt with an expert finger. Startled, the Slytherin yanked his arm back and responded quite childishly:

"No." It was a lie, but he didn't like to think that Louis and him shared anything in common-much less decent fashion sense.

"Could have sworn they were," sighed Louis with genuine disappointment. "I modeled for A&A a few times, you know."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. " 'Course you did."

"You two should swap magazines," suggested Al seriously, having now swallowed his food. "Malfoy keeps a copy of Adonis Wizardwear under his pillow."

"Potter likes to indulge in hallucinations."

"Please. I've seen it-"

"They're sleeping together," explained Lily with a smirk, and Louis raised his eyebrows and nodded as though this was a perfectly legitimate conclusion.

"Malfoy's sleeping with someone? Tell us something new," They were interrupted yet again by an unwelcome male voice, this time belonging to Rowan Thomas. Scorpius swiveled around, having had quite enough with the lack of Slytherins on the scene and determined to tell the Ravenclaw to fuck off—

The words drowned in his throat.

"What are you lot sitting here with the Slytherins for?" interjected the voice of Rose Weasley, and the girl's face popped up behind Rowan's tall frame.

"I came because it was too bloody loud everywhere else and this was only place I could hear myself," said Lily.

"But most importantly, we're trying to get under Malfoy's skin," added Al with a grave nod.

"Well, I can definitely get on board with that," said Rose, her smile widening. She hopped into the seat next to Scorpius. Rowan followed suit, sitting opposite from her. The two of them helped themselves to the leftover food on the table (Rude, thought Scorpius distantly), and when Rose leaned over to grasp the apple in the fruit-basket, the tips of her red hair brushed his knuckles.

He reflexively drew his hand back and tightened it, feeling a tingle where the hairs had touched him. When he raised his head up, he registered her eyes darting away from his and the slight reddening in her cheeks. Feeling rather flustered himself, he angled his gaze away from her and realized that four other pairs of eyes were trained on him.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to say something?" asked Lily expectantly.

Scorpius shrugged and responded acidly, "I'm clearly the odd one out, since the only other Slytherin here decided to become a traitorous bastard." Al laughed.

"Oh rot, he ruins the fun just when I arrive. How typical," said Rose with a weak laugh. "Thanks, Malfoy."

So they were back to witty banters again? Scorpius found the idea unsettling.

"Al, how long do you think Harry's going to spend on the DADA lecture?" Rowan was asking the redheaded boy, who was still keen on scarfing down the rest of his breakfast.

"Mmfh nowhidee." Al swallowed, and repeated: "No idea. Dad doesn't really like places where he gets too much public exposure so it's rare of him to come to Hogwarts like this without early notice."

"I'd love to learn how to conjure up a wicked Patronus," mused Rowan, "I still don't know what mine looks like. Do your remember that time he told the story about-"

There was a sudden, massive crack, quite like the sound of a shoulder popping out of its joint, and Scorpius instinctively reacted by grabbing the aforementioned body-part to ensure it was still intact. Others reacted differently around the table; Lily let out a little shriek and Al choked violently on his milk.

There was a loud sputter of laughter and a figure materialized before them.

"Sorry I didn't mean to startle you," said a voice that sounded oddly similar to Al's but deeper in tone, and Scorpius realized with a flash that the figure standing before them was Harry Potter.

"Dad!" said Al indignantly, prompting Lily to call out the same word in a much more affronted manner. "It's really bloody irritating when you do that."

"Can't be helped," said the man (or Mr. Potter, which was what Scorpius settled on what to call him), "I had to get away from the press. They'll notice in about a minute or so that I've Disapparated and wonder where I've gone off."

"I didn't even know you could Apparate within Hogwarts."

"Neville lends me special previleges," responded Mr. Potter with a twinkle in his green eyes. "It was about time I got a rest and said hello to my children anyway."

"Oh dad," echoed Lily with an exasperated sigh. She leapt up from the table and skipped over to throw her arms around her father. Al followed a second later, his mouth twitching into a smile. Mr. Potter held his children for several seconds and then pulled away to scan the rest of the heads at the table. Feeling as though he very, very much did not belong there at the moment, Scorpius avoided the man's inquisitive gaze.

"Hello to all of you," greeted Mr. Potter pleasantly as he tucked his wand away into his pocket. "Rose, Louis, good to see you both in fine health. Rowan, you look much taller than I remember-"

"—It's Ginny's cooking, sir," grinned Rowan, "If I keep visiting over the summer, I'll be a giant soon."

Mr Potter chuckled and then his eyes fell on Carpathia and Scorpius, who had remained silent during this whole exchange. "Are these your friends, Albus?"

Al cleared his throat. "Erm, yeah. This is Carpathia Nott and…" There was a brief fraction of a moment where he hesitated, "Scorpius."

He conveniently left out my surname. Scorpius met the man's gaze resolutely with his own, and by the flash of recognition across Mr. Potter's features, he knew the man was aware of who he was. He had always been told he looked so much like his father.

But Mr. Potter merely nodded and replied in that tranquil, smiling way of his: "Fantastic." Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like an odd silver contraption with various knobs and dials.

"Dad, not the camera," groaned Al.

Mr. Potter simply continued smiling. "It's all for good fun, Al. Your mother and I need a few snapshots of you and your sister while you're both at school. It'll only take a second."

Lily rolled her eyes and dragged Al back to the table despite his grumbling protests. "Okay, then. Squeeze in, everybody," she instructed to all the blank faces staring up at her and demonstrated the motion with her arms. "This will be quick and painless."

Scorpius wasn't entirely certain what was happening, but all of a sudden he had been crammed into minimal space with a group of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws (with the exception of Al) and was now staring into the lens of Harry Potter's camera. He could feel Rose squirming in discomfort right next to him and caught the faint whiff of fresh leaves emanating from her hair, no doubt from the shampoo she used. Then, there was a white flash and he blinked several times as the people next to him broke apart and headed back to their original seats. He wasn't even sure if he'd been smiling.

There was suddenly a loud roar from the front of the room and the incessant clicking sounds of camera flashes ceased. It appeared that people had realized the subject of their attention had disappeared (quite literally) into thin air.

Mr. Potter pocketed the camera and stated offhandedly, "That's my cue to leave. I expect to see all of you at one'o'clock." He fixed a stern look on Al. "Especially you, Albus, after recently hearing from the Potions Master that you conveniently skived off class this morning."

"I've got a really good reason for it, I swear," replied Al bashfully.

"And I look forward to hearing it from you later," said his father. "Try not to get into a fight with James today."

And with another resounding crack, the hero of the Wizarding World disappeared.

AAA.

"Do you think we're at the right age to know what love is?"

The question dropped between Al and Carpathia like an anchor. As if to accompany the notion, a book slipped out of Carpathia's arms and hit the floor with a loud clunk.

Al bent down to retrieve it for her and amended himself quickly, "I know it's a weird thing to ask."

She accepted the book he handed back to her. "Not particularly." Because I know what you really want to ask, and what's more important is that I know the answer to that question.

Oh, Al. You might think you're in love but you deserve better.

She didn't have much of a chance to say that, however, because at that moment James had rounded the corridor. At the sight of the charmingly disheveled young man, her blood turned to grit.

"Al!" crowed James, his face erupting into an unexpectedly wide smile. His hand immediately went to his hair to execute a casual rumple.

Al's jaw dropped and he stepped forward. "You're actually here, James? I wouldn't have pegged you as the sort to come back to school."

"Well, there's where you're wrong, Skrewt," said James. He strode forward and swung his arm around Al, pulling the younger boy into a firm embrace. Al's form went rigid with shock. "Blimey, no need to be so stiff. S'not like I smell or anything. I put on cologne today, would you believe it?"

He looked up over Al's shoulder and nodded briefly to acknowledge Carpathia's presence. "Wotcher, Nott."

Carpathia stood rooted in her place, her expression stony.

"Anyway, what have you been up to?" said James affably, detaching himself with Al and giving him a pat on the back.

"Just…er…school, y'know. The usual," responded Al a little dazedly. There was a faint glimmer of wonder in his eyes as he gazed up at his brother. "We had tryouts the other day…"

"Busy busy being Captain, eh?" said James with a knowing nod.

"Well, yeah…I mean," Al shook his head, as though he was attempting to clear his head. "It's not very interesting. You're the professonal Quidditch player, aren't you? How's life with the Cannons?"

James shrugged and shot Al a lazy smile. "It's a lot more parties and a lot less pitch-time than I imagined that's for sure."

"I heard you're off-season now? Bit odd, isn't it?"

"I can't really say anything about it, media confidentiality clause and what not, but if you're looking for a reason the tabloids might be correct for once," said James with a meaningful look. "To tell you the bloody truth, we're really not up to league standards. I mean, I just graduated from school and I'm still pulling off better numbers than Ridley or Darrundale. That's saying something, innit?"

"Your stats are higher than Ridley's? Cor, James, that's brilliant."

"You see? I've missed this!" exclaimed James suddenly, punctuating the statement with a frustrated sigh. Al opened his mouth in confusion but James cut him off. "You and me and Quidditch talk? Before things got so bloody competitive between the two of us? I've got to tell you, Al, I've been doing a lot mulling in my head and the way we got on during my last year here…well, it just wasn't right."

Carpathia's hackles went up. She watched the exchange with narrowed eyes.

"You—you think?" Al was saying quite weakly-as though he couldn't believe it.

"Yeah. I've had some time to get away from all this and just…finally saw past my fat head, you know?" admitted James solemnly.

Al opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"There's no other shoe, I swear," said James, holding his hands up. The corner of his mouth crinkled. "You've been a patient bugger with me the past few years, judging from the way I've been acting, and you didn't deserve it."

"Blimey…I…." Al was at a loss of words. "Thanks, James."

"New start," said James with a resolute nod. Al seemed to be absorbing the words quite dimly, for he only responded with a nod of his own several laggard seconds later. "Well, you two should be heading off to dad's lecture soon. I reckon he won't be pleased if you're late." James' eyes had flickered down to his brand-new leather watch, and then had glanced over at the mute Carpathia. "I'll be helping him out on stage."

"On stage?" repeated Al, "What's dad planning to do? Tap-dance?"

James rolled his eyes. "Just because I've decided to be a nicer big brother doesn't mean you get to be thick, Al." And with a tousle of his younger brother's hair, to which Al reacted with a scowl, James lightly tread off into the distance.

"Can you believe him?" echoed Al with traces of the scowl still on his face, although he looked significantly happier than he'd been before.

"No," replied Carpathia flatly, realizing that her fists were clenched. She had never been particularly fond of James Potter, but he was starting to drive her up the wall. She couldn't shake off the haunting suspicion that there were ulterior motives behind his sudden amicability, given what she'd recently learnt about him. For god's sake, Al had spent five years coming to conclusion that he couldn't trust his brother and now it was all coming to rot.

"He's got better stats than Ridley though…I should tell Iz, though she probably wouldn't be too interested…"

Carpathia snapped. The words burst out of her mouth in a manic fervor: "Please tell me you are not in love with Isabel."

Al froze, his face morphing into bewilderment. "Sorry?"

"Don't tell me you love her, Al," she repeated, shaking her head. "It's not right."

"It's not right?" said Al, his voice rising. "For Merlin's sake, whatdo you have against her now?"

"Nothing! She's perfectly lovely and innocent…you might as well charm a permanent halo to her head!" She didn't mean to sound so vicious, but her bitterness had gotten the better of her.

"It's been two years," stated Al, drawing out the words slowly like he couldn't quite figure out the taste of them in his mouth. "Even after two years, you can't accept the fact she's my girlfriend."

"It's notthat."

Al snorted loudly.

"When I told you about Devon, youwere the one that said we were too young to be in love," she accused softly. "You were only looking out for me then. Now I'm looking out for you."

"You were in tears, Thia," said Al with an incredulous stare, "Because Devon was off with that Adara cow-" He held up his hands and cut himself off. "No. I'm not even going to bother pissing myself off. It's a good thing that bastard got himself expelled because I would've never let him get away with—after what he did to you-" He was struggling to finish the sentence, but his flushed, angry cheeks said it all.

"Yeah, I remember," Carpathia intervened coolly.

"And this has nothing to do with Devon because you haven't got any sodding reason to hate Isabel the way I hate him. Isabel's been nothing but a bloody angel and, to be honest, I'm having a hard time trusting your judgment this time around-"

"So that's itthen? I made a mistake and you won't listen to me anymore?" replied Carpathia and she slammed the wall angrily with a balled-up fist, "In case you've forgotten, Al, we've been mates much longer than you and Isabel have been going out and if you still think I don't have your best interests at heart after six years, then I don't know what our friendship is worth!"

Their breathing had both escalated to the same rapid pace. In the shocked silence the two of them stared each other, both aware that there was something beyond friendship at stake here. And at that moment, Carpathia was frightened. Frightened that, for the first time, their friendship might have lost its value.

"I don't want to fight," exhaled Al and the tension in his shoulders dissipated. "I don't want to lose you, Thia. Just…please…try to understand the position I'm in."

With a shake of his head, he strode off into the distance in a decidedly irritated manner. And although Carpathia knew he was angry, she couldn't help but feel a wave of relief.

Because no matter how much how strongly Al felt for Isabel, he'd made it clear that their friendship came first. She came first…and that was equal to winning.

AAA.

The classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts was no longer a classroom. The walls, which had previously been bare and rather dull, were now plastered with vivid House banners. Strips of black mats with the words 'Finite Incantatum' etched in silvering lettering dotted the floor. The room itself had been magically altered so it held a circular shape, naturally inclining its occupants to face the elevated platform at its center.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh years found themselves hovering cautiously at the edges of the room, all chattering rather nervously (or, in some cases, excitedly) to themselves. No one save for several stoic-faced seventh-years seemed to understand what was going on.

Harry Potter materialized on the platform quietly and adjusted the microphone on his podium. This was performed with such little fanfare that it was only after a minute or so that the students realized their mentor's presence and snapped to attention. The chattering died down to a silence.

The Hero of the Wizarding World gazed out at them in surprise. "Good lord, are these really Hogwarts students? I've never come across a group so tame." He smiled and raised an arm. "Come closer."

His voice, which had a very pleasant tone to it indeed, prompted the entire student body to shuffle forward, spilling into the breadth of the room until masses of faces were crowded around Mr. Potter wearing looks of awe.

Scorpius Malfoy stayed in his position at the back of the room and found satisfaction in observing the people jostling around him. Al and several of their Quidditch teammates were pooled in a convenient position near the front. A couple rows ahead were the closely nestled heads of Chantal and Desmond McCormack. Scorpius couldn't help thinking that the sight of her flowing, amber curls next to McCormack's sharp blond strands created an all-too-familiar picture. Oh Chantal, you're so bloody transparent.

It was still a cause of irritation, however, and Scorpius had to tear his eyes away to keep his expression blank. He found his gaze landing inadvertently on Rose Weasley.

She was staring directly at him.

The sudden electric jolt in his chest was mirrored by the spasm of panic that crossed her face. He closed his eyes quickly and reopened them again. She was now staring determinedly at her uncle on the platform, her jaw tight and her mouth pressed together.

Without really contemplating why, Scorpius silently shouldered past the throng of people in her direction. It took him only ten steps to arrive at Rose Weasley's side. He glanced side-ways at her neutral expression, desperately wondering why it was always so hard to decipher what she was thinking.

She spoke first. "You again." And Scorpius was strangely relieved she hadn't ignored him.

"Me again," he murmured back in reply.

"Excited?"

"I actually moved my hair appointment to Thursday so no, not so much."

Rose smacked his arm but the smile flitted over her face. "You're funny, Malfoy."

There it was again; that tingle where she had touched him. "We never got to finish that conversation the other day. How were the rest of your holidays?"

She grimaced. "My grandfather must have force-fed me a hundred cinnamon scones, thanks to you."

Scorpius' mouth twitched. Then, Harry Potter's magnified voice carried out across the room and both of them turned towards the stage.

"Good afternoon to all of you." Mr. Potter took on an altogether different personality on stage than he did in person. He held an empowering sort of presence, one that simply commanded attention without really trying. "Most of you have heard stories of the Wizarding War. Most of you have indulged in the stories of so-called 'heroes', whether it was because of actual fact or media propaganda," he chuckled faintly to himself. "Though I will clear the air and confirm that yes, I did inadvertently perform an engorgio charm on my dear aunt—or was it aunt twice removed? I can't remember."

Faint titters of laughter echoed from the student body.

Mr. Potter smiled. "And I'm certain that all of you know who I am and what I've done. You've heard it from history books, television, or your parents no doubt. But I beg you to stop and ponder this question: what exactly have I done?"

There was a ringing pause and the hero's face turned somber. "Contrary to popular belief, I did not overcome Voldemort due to miraculous, mystical feats of magic. I did not attempt the impossible. I was not the brightest of my generation nor the bravest or even the most adept at spell-work. I was, simply put, a boy who came across a solid amount of luck and just the right amount of people who loved him."

Like many others in the room, Scorpius had not been expecting such a speech. The silence that resonated after the man's words was only broken when he heard Rose whisper beside him:

"He practiced that in front of a mirror for days, you know. Uncle Harry has horrible nerves."

He angled his face towards her and raised an eyebrow. "Not bad."

She shrugged. "My mum's loads better. I would know; I went to a million of her press conferences this summer."

The words tumbled out before he could stop it. "Can't have been too bad of a summer, though, could it? I hear you were quite active on the dating scene."

It was a bizarre change of subject and Scorpius felt a twist in his gut when her smile fell instantly. Nonetheless, she replied with rather stiff tones, "It was only a couple blokes."

"A couple? Oho. And here I thought it was just the one. Well done, Weasley." He fought to keep the cynicism from his voice. For fuck's sake, I'm not even supposed to care.

He fixed his gaze back on the lecture with grounded teeth, ignoring the flash of mortification across her face.

"The essence of winning a magical war is not to brandish horcruxes or immortal objects," Mr. Potter was saying, "And one does not need to be as powerful as Albus Dumbledore to overcome darkness. That inexplicable force that lies in every mind of a witch or wizard is enough. Anyone can be a hero, so long as they understand how to channel that force correctly."

Mr. Potter's smile twitched. "Today, I will be passing on one of the most valuable lessons I've ever learned, a lesson I taught onto a group of young men and women no older than yourselves twenty-seven years ago in this very castle."

"They asked a similar question as no doubt many of you do now: 'what is the secret? Why are you the Chosen One?'". Mr. Potter exhaled. "But there is no secret. As I mentioned before, it was a ridiculous amount of good fortune and learning quickly how to defend myself. Defense." The word spelled itself out in the air in scarlet, flaming letters behind the man. "It is perhaps the most essential and, in some cases, the most effective form of attack. An expelliarmus charm casted just in time can toe the line between life and death. Keep that in mind for today's dueling practice."

Dueling, thought Scorpius as a wave of excited murmurs rippled out around him. Well, that should be interesting. But it was hard for him to revel in light of recently uncovered information.

His eyes wandered over to Rose again in frustration. For a sensible girl, it was odd to see Rose so unperturbed by her sudden burst of promiscuity over the summer. In fact, it bothered him how she wasn't bothered.

"Weasley."

She turned to him, wary. "What?"

He had no clue what he wanted to say, only that he was violently irritated—from a combination of multiple things but, really, mostly her. He wanted her to say something clever, even insulting, anything to relieve him of this dreadful, burning itch in his chest that was a result of the realization that it was suddenly so fucking irritating that some waiter had put his hands on her—

He heard himself utter the words in low and tense tones as if from a distance. "I don't think I can go back to the way things were before."

Her mouth fell open in surprise and Mr. Potter's voice, which had now escalated in volume, filled the void.

"Of each dueling pair, we will have one who will use purely 'attack-based' spells and the other who will be using purely 'defense-based' spells. As fifth-years and up, I trust you all know the difference." He eyed the student body meaningfully. "Each pair will switch roles when I call 'reverse'."

"As most of you know, a duel is won when the opposing party is disarmed or lies immobile for ten seconds. At this point, both parties must undo each other's spells with 'finite incantatum' and mark the end of the duel." Mr. Potter flicked his wand and a row of lights in the ceiling burst into illumination, casting white spotlights on each black dueling mat below.

"I should also remind you that Unforgivables are not allowed." There was a brief round of laughter around the room. "And I would like it if no one partners up with a person from their own House." He winked. "You'll find it much more interesting that way. Now go on, get into your pairs!"

The students erupted into action, calling out names and reaching out for friends in other houses. As shoulders and heads jostled past Scorpius, he stared at Rose's open-mouthed expression indeterminedly for several more seconds before turning away. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rowan sidle up to her with an invitation, 'Partner, yeah?', and heard her soft reply: 'Of course.'

Scorpius strode off and cast out thoughts of Rose Weasley from his mind. He clenched the wand in his hand with new fervor. Time to beat someone's bloody arse at magic.

AAA.

"So do you want to-"

"Hey, Thia, thanks for saving us a spot!" Louis slid in front of Carpathia with ease and shouldered out Richie Montgomery, who had no doubt been about to ask her if she wanted to be his partner despite the fact that Mr. Potter had clearly elucidated not to. "Sorry, Rich, didn't see you there."

Richie cast Louis a look that was a mix between bewilderment and hostility before walking off with a grumble.

Amusement danced in Louis' eyes. "He's hopeless, isn't he?"

Carpathia rolled her eyes and her gaze flickered back to Al and Isabel, who were standing at a distance over Louis' shoulder. She had expected the two of them to pair up but that didn't mean she liked it. Clearly Mr. Potter shared the same sentiments; he was looking at Al with barely-concealed exasperation.

"So do you want to be on attack or defense, Thia darling?" Louis was asking.

Carpathia threw him an annoyed look. "Stop calling me that. Only Al calls me that."

Louis shrugged. "Whatever you want, Carps."

She drew out her wand. "On second's thoughts, I'll be on attack."

Louis grinned. "Brilliant."

She cast off another bout of irritation and instead proceeded to perform the customary opening ritual. The two of them bowed to one another and then walked to opposite ends of the mat.

"Begin?" Louis called out.

"Begin," she responded. She didn't even have to think. "Impendimenta!"

The sudden curse threw Louis off-guard. He bounded up in the air, robes flying, and landed spread-eagled on the floor.

"C'est quoi ce bordel!" he exclaimed indignantly, doubling over with a groan. His wand clattered to the side. "Angry much?"

"Fair's fair," she replied crisply, striding over to him. "Now tell me what you know about me and Al."

"Is that what this is about? Because I was clever enough to figure it out?" said Louis with another groan. "It was nothing. Just an educated guess."

"Put it out of your head then because it's not true."

"Oh really? You're doing a bang-up job right now of convincing me," replied Louis sarcastically.

Carpathia turned on her heel and stode off back to her original. "Again."

She heard him clamber to his feet and he called out behind her, "Fine! It was Rose! I asked her about it and she said it was all in the past but, I mean, clearly it isn't-"

Carpathia whirled around. "Tarantegella!" A jet of blue light shot out of her wand towards the boy but this time Louis was prepared.

"Protego!" he replied, and a red circle of light bloomed out of his wand, deflecting the previous spell. "Look, I'm not going to tell anyone. I just wanted you to know that you can trust me-"

"I barely know you," she interrupted with a scoff. "And you still haven't given me a solid reason as to why you want to be friends."

"I told you, there's no logic to it. I just think you're a good person!" he deflected with a rather furious expression. "That's—that's how I work, alright? Maybe it's a Veela thing to have keen instincts. I don't think, I feel, and I have this feeling that you're rather special-"

"Incendio!" she replied, and a plume of fire shot out of her wand. Louis' eyes widened in registration just split-seconds before an arc of water splashed out of his wand and disintegrated the flame into a puff of smoke. Non-verbal Aguamenti charm, thought Carpathia with a faint stroke of admiration. Not bad. "I don't believe you."

Louis puffed out his lips in frustration and cast a drying spell on his clothes. "What have I done to make me so untrustworthy?"

"It's nothing you've done. It's what you are," she retorted, crossing her arms. "Good-looking, careless, lots of nice pretty words coming out of your mouth." She wiped water out of her eyes. "I've met blokes like you. They don't want friendship. They want-"

"Oh believe me, you're not my type," said Louis with a roll of his eyes. "And you can't just put the entire male species under one stereotype just because you came across one that was a delinquent who got himself expelled-"

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Carpathia and Louis, who had not been expecting her to break the rules and use a Defense spell, flew backwards again. As he catapulted towards the ground this time, his wand sailed through the air and slipped itself neatly into her hand. "Finite Incantatum."

She'd won the duel but it somehow didn't feel quite like winning. Louis coughed and got to his feet and all she wanted to do was punch him until he was down on the ground again. It wasn't fair, really, how his Veela charms were still working their magic on her and she just wanted to stroke those delicate blond tufts of hair. It was a bloody nuisance.

So instead, she walked over and dropped his wand on his chest. "Don't act as if you know me," she said quietly. "Just because you've done your research doesn't make you an expert."

Louis gazed at her with an expression that could've almost characterized as sad. "I'm sorry. I just want someone to talk to."

About what? For once, she looked into those beautiful blue eyes and believed that Louis had secrets he couldn't share with anyone else.

"Is he bothering you?" She turned and saw, to her utmost surprise, that Gareth was standing behind her with his hands clenched at the sides. He was glaring at Louis with an expression of unmatched animosity, one she had never seen before.

"No, Gareth, he's not," she answered in confusion. "And I can handle it. Shouldn't you be with Bixby?"

"Yes," called out Bixby, Gareth's dueling partner, who was standing behind her brother with his arms crossed impatiently. "C'mon, Nott, Harry Potter's looking this way."

"Not before I settle something with this prick," seethed Gareth. He brushed past Carpathia and seized Louis by the neck of his robes. Far from being alarmed, however, Louis seemed to be immensely enjoying himself. He flashed Gareth a lazy smile.

"Easy on the clothes. They're designer."

"Stuff it!" yelled Gareth, shoving Louis to the ground. "Stop harassing my sister, got it? Nobody wants you around, you sodding shit. Nobody wants to be your friend. So you can just fuck off back to that posh school of yours, yeah?"

Carpathia was shocked. "Gareth!" She had never seen Gareth so livid.

A cold, rattling air had descended upon Louis and seemed to wipe out all traces of his usual genial self. The boy rose to full height with his eyes flashing ice. "Make me, Nott."

That's when Gareth punched him.

AAA.

"What's that? 3-1 for me?" smirked Rose as she stood above Rowan, who had flown a good five meters and was now lying sprawled at the opposite end of the mat.

Rowan uttered a loud moan and then rolled over on his back. "I'm pretty sure the last one wasn't a defensive spell, Red."

"Actually, the Body-bind was originally designed as a safety spell for witches in the 1800's to prevent themselves from being assaulted by men on the prowl-"

"Okay, I believe you," conceded Rowan with raised hands. He flickered her a wry smile. "Men on the prowl?"

Rose shrugged. "The book said it, not me." She reached out her hand. "Come on. I'll let you be on defense this time though I doubt it'll do you any good."

Rowan rolled his eyes and, instead of grabbing her hand, reached out for her arm and pulled her down next to him. Rose yelped as her knees thumped to the ground. "Jesus, Thomas. What was that was for?"

"There. Now you know what that feels like," he replied, rolling on his side to face her. It was rather comical sight; the two of them lying flat on the floor with curses and spells bounding off around them. "Besides, we haven't been able to talk much lately. Just the two of us, I mean."

Rose's mouth twitched. "What, now? During dueling practice?"

"Better a time as any," replied Rowan with his brown eyes sparkling.

"Right," she nodded solemnly. She rolled also to her side and faced him, mirroring his posture. "What shall we talk about then? The weather or Professor Fell's new sideburns?"

"I was just wondering," he said casually, "That bloke you were going on about on the train home last term, did you finally get him out of your mind?"

Rose fingered the black plaster of the mat. "As best as I could."

Rowan's gaze fell on her so intensified that she had to look away. "Which means what, Red?"

"It means," replied Rose with careful precision. "I'm back on track."

"Ah," said Rowan, a crinkle creasing his brow. "Well, that's good."

She gazed at him curiously. "Why do you ask?"

A smile filled the entirety of Rowan's face. "Just a man on the prowl, I guess."

"Rose, Rowan, off the floor!" Harry's voice boomed out in their near proximity. Rose scrambled to her feet and looked sheepishly at her uncle, who was shaking his head ruefully at them. "Thomas, you're too slow on the retaliation. Don't let our Rosie get the better of you because of timing. She's not as good of a marksman as you. Carry on."

She glanced over at Rowan, who was sporting a strange flush in his dark cheeks. Before she could make a joke about the situation, however, a loud clang resonated from the other side of the room and a series of yells ruptured out.

"Wanker!"

"Je t'encule!"

And then Carpathia's unexpectedly loud shriek: "Will you two stop it?"

AAA.

Scorpius found himself paired off with Zachary Madden, a big-boned sixth-year Hufflepuff who seemed better off without his wand than with it. Zachary's oafish reflexes and lack of casting accuracy quickly became a bore. In fifteen minutes, Scorpius had disarmed Zachary a total of eight times and was beginning to wonder if he was actually going to learn anything from the class.

That was when Gareth and Louis had begun throwing fists at each other and Mr. Potter called for a respite.

The matter was resolved quickly. Mr. Potter separated the pair and deducted twenty points off both Ravenclaw and Slytherin. He then promptly began rearranging partners.

"Ms. Nott, is it?" Mr. Potter addressed Carpathia with a brief touch on the shoulder. "You'll pair up with Albus."

"James, step in and fill in as Ms. Marrieto's partner, please." Al's smile fell but he disentangled his hand from his girlfriend's and walked towards Carpathia. James silently took his place across from Isabel.

"Louis, you'll be with Bixby and Mr. Nott…will pair up with Mr. Madden over here." Scorpius started as Mr. Potter stepped into close proximity of him and his partner. For several long seconds, the man appraised Scorpius with unreadable green eyes. Scorpius tried not to look away, instead focusing on the shape of Harry Potter's nose and how similar it was to Al's. It's not as if he hadn't stared down green eyes before.

"Malfoy, you'll partner with Shacklebolt."

Scorpius' stomach plummeted as the lithe, muscular form of Vince Shacklebolt appeared behind Mr. Potter. The seventh-year's calm and relaxed demeanor indicated that he was clearly unperturbed by the change in partnership but that was only to be expected. Vince Shacklebolt was one of the best spell-casters of his year and had been accepted early into the Auror department's elite training program.

Gareth's shoulder brushed past him as he took Scorpius' former place across from Madden. Scorpius glared at his friend incredulously. What'd you have to go and sock Weasley for? But the other Slytherin merely grunted and cast another filthy look in Louis' direction.

"Right," clapped Mr. Potter, suddenly cheery again. "Back to your partners please."

Scorpius turned to Vince with what he hoped was a fairly nondescript look on his face. The brown-skinned boy was twirling his wand casually in one hand. When he smiled at Scorpius, his white teeth flashed. "So do you want to be on attack or should I?"

Scorpius shrugged, his own teeth setting. "Fine by me."

AAA.

Al had a strong suspicion his father had purposely separated him and Isabel to keep him focused on the class. It was a wise move, he supposed, since he could hardly take Stunning Isabel seriously after just telling her 'I love you' a few hours ago.

For whatever reasons Al couldn't fathom, Carpathia didn't seem all that happy with the arrangement either. She took her place across from Al with barely-concealed annoyance.

"Oh come on. I'm not that bad, am I?" chided Al as they both drew out their wands. "You could be with someone worst—y'know, like Finnegan. At least I don't set people on fire."

Carpathia shook her head. "It's not you. I just…I can't believe Gareth lost his ruddy temper again. Over what, exactly? Defending my honor?" She snorted and several crimson sparks drizzled out of her wand.

"Maybe he's on his period," suggested Al. "Anyway, uh, do you want to be on attack or should I…" He looked up to see Carpathia's attention drifted again, her eyes fixed on something above his shoulder. "Oi. Hello?" He turned to see what had piqued her interest.

She was looking at James and Isabel, who by their oddly tense postures seemed to be in the middle of an argument. When Isabel's face suddenly angled towards Al, he noted the foreign crease in her brow and the clench of her mouth.

Al smirked to himself. He found Isabel's cold streak towards James refreshing, even if it was slightly problematic for the family. He turned back to Carpathia. The girl's eyes were still narrowed at the pair. Good lord, was everyone on edge today?

"Don't mind them," said Al dismissively. "Izzie's still a little rubbed over how much of a prat James was last year. I'll sort them out soon enough."

Carpathia's eyes flickered back to Al. "Right, yeah," she replied with a humorless laugh.

Al studied her for several moments, feeling frustrated. What was the matter now? He exhaled. "Hey. Don't…uh mind what happened this morning, yeah? I didn't mean to bring up Devon or-"

"I've put it out of my mind, Al," she replied firmly. Then, so softly Al almost couldn't hear, she added: "It's not your fault."

AAA.

He was losing. So far, Vince had gotten the better of his defensive maneuvers four times and he'd only managed to disarm him twice. It was clear why Shacklebolt was top of his class. He had an extremely broad mental arsenal of spells, some spells that Scorpius had never even heard of, and his execution was flawless.

"Criantus!" shouted Vince and several stream of bright white light shot out of his wand like silver arrows. Scorpius, having no idea what the counter-spell was, ducked and cast a non-verbal Shield Charm. One of the rays of light grazed his arm and evoked a sharp, stinging sensation. He looked down and noted that a rather shallow gash had appeared on his forearm.

He got to his feet and yelled, "Ventus!" and a blast of wind knocked Vince to the floor. The boy landed expertly on his side, still gripping his wand, and opened his mouth to perform a retaliation.

"Leviosa!" Scorpius felt himself lifted in the air. "Arais Reducto!"

Shit, thought Scorpius as the ground closed in on him. He landed on the floor with a loud thunk and pain radiated up his arm. That's going to fucking bruise.

Groaning slightly, Scorpius climbed back up to full stature and reached for his wand but his hands closed on empty air. When Scorpius looked up he saw Vince twirling his wand between his fingers, no doubt having performed a non-verbal Disarming spell. "Not bad, Malfoy."

"Not bad, indeed," cut in a speculative voice behind them. Scorpius swiveled around to see Harry Potter watching them with his arms folded. He looked pleasantly entertained.

Scorpius wasn't quite sure he heard right. "Sorry?"

Mr. Potter strode over and placed two fingers on the hand that Scorpius was holding his wand. "You're gripping it too tight. Don't be nervous."

He was nervous. Why was Harry Potter so keen on watching him? Was he afraid Scorpius might do something drastic, explode a few lamps maybe? Scorpius wiped the sweat from the side of his face and forced himself to look behind the man's glinting glasses. Mr. Potter's eyes were surprisingly kind.

"You want the wrist to be flexible, especially if you're in the middle of combat," Mr. Potter continued, taking out his own wand and demonstrating by performing several wand movements. "Your mind might find the right spell but it won't work if your body's too stiff to execute the correct movement, will it?"

He stepped backwards and faced Vince in a dueling position, his legs spread apart and spine straight. Vince slowly assumed a similar stance. "Dueling isn't only about knowledge of spells, it's about physical utilization of space. You want your feet light, your body angle a little more closed, and your arms as near your body as possible so that no stray spells catch your limbs."

Mr. Potter made a beckoning motion at Vince and the boy hesitatingly muttered the incantation of a Stinging Hex. In response, Mr. Potter shifted quickly so that his side was facing his opponent and cast a beautiful Protego. His Shield Charm bloomed outward like a voluptuous rose and allowed the spell to rebound.

"You see? I angled my body to minimize exposure while on the defense. You want to create a smaller pocket of space within your territory so that your Shield Charms don't require so much effort. Now, on the attack…" He gestured at Vince again, who quickly went back to starting position. Mr. Potter deftly leapt to the side and wordlessly cast a spell that curved around the outer rim of the mat, aiming for Vince's left. The boy barely had time to raise up his Shield Charm before the spell collided and disintegrated into a shower of sparks.

"I caught him at a surprising angle," explained Mr. Potter, turning to Scorpius with a smile. "Every wizard has a good wand-arm and a weaker one. Identify your opponent's weaker side and use your space to exploit that advantage."

"Yes, sir," said Scorpius in low tones. Sir? He repeated in his mind incredulously. Since when? But it had seemed fitting.

"No need for that, Mr. Malfoy," replied Mr. Potter lightly, clapping Scorpius on the shoulder. "Now do it again. And this time," he aimed his wand at his throat, instantly allowing his voice to magnify, "Can I have everyone's attention please?"

The clamor in the room died down and all heads turned in their direction. Mr. Potter raised his arms. "Brilliant work I've seen today. Some improvement needed, of course, but truly good effort. Before we end today's lesson, I would like you all of you to take a good look at Mr. Shacklebolt and Mr. Malfoy here." There was a pause when no one moved. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come around."

Scorpius groaned internally and caught Vince's eye. The seventh-year seemed to be equally dreading the crowd of students that were now pressing up around them. Mr. Potter rubbed his hands in anticipation and stepped onto the middle of the mat.

"I'd like all of you to pay attention to their technique closely," he instructed the student body, most of who were craning over each other's heads and giggling to themselves. "Each of them has a distinct style and clear set of strengths, which I have matched up with their position. As such, Mr. Shacklebolt will be on the attack and Mr. Malfoy here is on defense."

There was a snort and Scorpius looked up to see Al and Carpathia watching avidly from the front row. The redheaded boy was wearing a sizable smirk on his face, which Scorpius vowed he would repay later on. He scanned the rows of faces angled up at him and immediately spotted out the flash of Weasley's red hair…Merlin's beard, he reprimanded himself forcefully, he was not going to think about Weasley.

"…body movements and use of non-verbal spells. Now, without further ado, begin!"

What? The immediacy of Mr. Potter's green light caught Scorpius off-guard and he scrambled to put his mind back on track. Alright, focus. Did he say Shacklebolt was on the attack or was I—

"Stupefy!" Vince roared.

Scorpius' head snapped around so fast that his neck criked. He muttered a dissipating spell under his breath and the Stun dissolved into slivers of light. Well, that was easy. Did he think he was going to get the better of me with a ruddy Stunning spell—

Scorpius instantly felt a tremor in the air and his hairs stood up. Instinctively he flashed up his shield and, a split-second later, there was a burst of magenta so violent that it shook his very bones. There was a gasp and a loud 'ooooh' resonated from the spectators.

Invisible! How did he make his spell invisible? Scorpius shook his head, furious that he'd almost let his guard down. A carnage of spells battered down on his shield, deflecting off with explosions like fireworks. The collisions were so deafening that Scorpius could barely hear the incantations coming out of Vince's mouth. Students around them began to laugh.

He was getting completely reamed. And he had no idea what to do.

He took a step back and realized that his feet were nearly slipping off the edge of the mat. Vince was using the attack to slowly advance upon him, taking the majority of space to his advantage. Space…Scorpius glimpsed Mr. Potter's focused expression through the haze of spells. He didn't have much physical room anymore and cowering behind his shield was limiting his space even more. What was the bloody point of this, anyway? If it wasn't for the Protego Charm he'd be eliminated, and it's not as if he could use a shield charm as a weapon…

Or could he? What was that Mr. Potter had said? Each has a clear set of strengths, thought Scorpius, and I've always been known for my creativity…

"Lumos maxima," he murmured and there was a swell of bright, white light. The crowd uttered faint cries of protest as they were blinded. Scorpius grinned. That meant Vince was blind as well.

Irreverta Dupliante, he said mentally, noting with satisfaction as a mirror image of his scarlet Shield appeared adjacent to his current one. "Nox!" he called. The white light instantly disappeared.

There was a collection of laughter as the crowd blinked the stars from their eyes and realized what he'd done. Scorpius watched Vince's expression morph into one of confusion as the seventh-year debated over which Shield to target.

"Accanta Sepulis!" Vince shouted, his mouth twitching into a smile. Two rays of light shot out of his wand, attacking both shields simultaneously. Impressive, thought Scorpius with admiration. Really impressive.

But inefficient.

Vince was tiring himself out. Casting two spells simultaneously was enormously taxing and it wasn't long before the seventh-year's battering ram ceased. He dropped his wand-arm to the side and panted, "Malfoy! Are you ready to come out or what?"

There was still one trick Scorpius still hadn't exercised yet. He had learned this neat one from his father. Wizards do not simply cast spells, Scorpius, they can also bear them. It's much more tiring, of course, but the few seconds are worth it.

"Proteus," he whispered, pointing the wand at his wrist and watching a river of blue light trickle into his blood stream. He felt the mirroring charm take hold and it weighed down on his body instantly like an anchor. His forehead already sweating, he lowered his previous two Shields and stepped forward.

Vince was ready. The boy grinned and uttered, "Havatis!" A black, spindly jet of light raced towards Scorpius and…astonishingly, glanced off him, deflecting back in the direction it came. Vince's eyes widened seconds before the Hurtling Hex knocked its owner off his feet. The seventh-year's body somer-saulted in the air, creating a beautiful arc above the agog heads of spectators.

Scorpius cast the Mirroring Charm off his body with a sigh of relief just as Vince landed arse-down on the opposite end of the mat, his expression stunned. There was collective gasp of air from the spectators.

Expelliarmus, thought Scorpius, and the wand feebly detached from Vince's hand and rolled in his direction.

I've won. He couldn't believe it. His hands shook and his sides were still heaving from the weight of the spell, but he'd done it. He had won.

There was a very pregnant silence. Then, someone began to clap and before long the student body had dissolved into applause.

"Well done, well done indeed!" shouted Mr. Potter above the din and Scorpius had almost forgotten the man was there. "Finite incantatum." The mat immediately straightened itself. "Take a bow, boys. You've earned yourself a well-earned rest."

His heart thumping, Scorpius squared his shoulders and faced Vince, who was still wearing a look of disheveled shock. When the tips of their heads touched, whistles pierced the air. He heard Vince say quietly: "That was wicked, Malfoy."

Scorpius raised his head and, to his surprise, saw that the seventh-year was smiling as he pocketed his wand. "Nah, I mean…" he began awkwardly. For the first time, he felt rather humbled. "You had some good shots there yourself. That Accantus Spell…"

"Well, I'm meant to be the best in school, aren't I?" said Vince with a matter-of-fact shrug. "My dad's been training me since I was born and I've never picked up PossessiveMagic as well as you did. Carrying the Mirror Charm like that? You'd make a damn good Auror if you tried, you know."

Scorpius blinked as he absorbed the compliment. He felt the edges of his mouth curve upwards and something in his chest bloomed and filled his throat like warm Butterbeer. "Thank you," he said quietly. Vince winked at him and then headed off to join his crowd of mates.

Scorpius glanced around him and spotted Al nearby. The Potter caught his eye and flipped him the bird with a good-natured grin.

With his own smile on his lips, Scorpius set off in Al's direction and halted in front him, drawling in typical Malfoy fashion: "All hail the conquering hero."

AAA.

The class filtered out in a rush of excitement, all chattering about what had transpired during the Defense lesson. 'Scorpius' was a name that Al caught more than once.

He noted that his father was already seated at his desk with a stack of files. The man took off his glasses and promptly began massaging the corner of his eyes, no doubt exhausted by the class more than he'd let on.

Al chose the moment to step in. "Dad."

Harry Potter looked up and met his son with a welcoming smile. "Oh. There you are. Come to explain your whereabouts this morning when you were skiving off Potions?"

Al rolled his eyes. "I knew Astrakhan was going to make a big bloody deal about it. The man's barmy."

"On the contrary, I think he's quite an intelligent man."

"He never lets me off!" complained Al, throwing his hands up. "I'm top of the class already. One lesson isn't going to make a difference-"

"I don't think that's the point, Al," cut in his father with a stern look. He slid his glasses back up his nose. "Professor Astrakhan says you're one of the most talented students he's ever come across. You shouldn't the insult the man by not giving him your attention. Don't you like Potions?"

"Well, yeah, but it's not like I was ever really going to to take it seriously-"

"Why not?"

"Because," spluttered Al, "Because I want to play Quidditch."

Harry studied him for several seconds. A smile threatened to cross the man's face. "Is Potions not, ah, 'trendy' anymore? Is that it?"

"What?"

"I'm asking you, Al, if you're not picking Potions because you don't like it or because it's no longer 'swank', so to speak."

"Dad, I'm begging you to speak English."

"Oh bloody hell," grumbled Harry. He took a deep breath and continued. "Let me put this way, Al. If you like something and you're good at it, there's no shame in pursuing it no matter what it is."

Al folded his arms. "I'm good at Quidditch."

"Yes, I know you are," said Harry patiently. "And should the time come that you decide with wholeheartedly to become a Quidditch player, your mother and I will support you just as we've supported James. But…" He paused. "Until then, you will explore all your options and that starts by going to all your classes. Understood?"

"Yes," said Al with a sigh.

Harry tapped his desk for several moments. "Your grandmother was exceptional at Potions too, you know."

"What, Grandmum Molly?"

"No." The man's voice softened. "Lily. My mother."

"Oh," said Al, his sarcasm deflating. His father rarely spoke of his own parents. "I never knew that."

"No you didn't," agreed Harry, his eyes twinkling. "I suppose that partially explains where your talent comes from."

It was somehow relieving for Al to hear that his affinity for Potions connected him to another member of the Potters. He had always believed that the trait was another aspect that separated him from the rest of the pack. Everyone else in the family had always shared horror stories of their time in the dungeons.

"Oi, doxyhead!" James' head poked into the chamber with his hand cupped around his mouth. "Some of the lads and I are going down to the pitch. Can you rustle up some of your Slytherins for a friendly?"

"In a minute, James," called out Harry and the boy ducked out of the room. "He doesn't change, does he? Before you go Al," he added quickly as Al turned to leave. "That Malfoy boy…Scorpius, was it? Astrakhan dropped a word that he wanted to be an Auror. Is that still true?"

Al shrugged. "Dunno. I reckon so. He also wants to be the world's best-dressed tyrant if that helps."

"Wonderful," replied Harry with a smile quirking at his lips. "Make sure he sends in his application, would you? I don't want a boy with his background to be discouraged."

Al shrugged again. "Alright." He swiveled around to leave and then found himself hesitating once more. There was something that he felt his father should know. Something, he felt, his father would care to know. "Dad."

"What is it, Al?" Harry had already begun working on his files.

"I told Isabel I loved her today," he blurted out with a faint stab of embarrassment.

His father paused and looked back at up at him. His green eyes were filled with strange emotion. "Did you?"

"Yeah. It was…" Al swallowed. "Terrifying. But right. I mean, I reckon it was right."

"There's always a first," said Harry gently. "Congratulations."

Al nodded and promptly departed, leaving the Hero of the Wizarding World to stare after his son with an odd somberness in his heart.

AAA.

I can't keep this secret anymore.

Carpathia sank to the ground, her back pressed up against an oak tree. This was her favorite spot. She and Al had used to come here frequently to observe the Bowtruckle nest hanging several branches above, only now the nest was deserted and Al had a girlfriend to keep company.

A girlfriend that had been doing god-knows-what with his brother for god-knows-how-long.

She kicked a tree branch. It wasn't fair. It wasn't bloody fair that good blokes like Al had to pick up the pieces after idiots like James.

Oh god how she wanted to tell him, but she wouldn't be able to bear the heartbreak on his face. How she wanted to tell someone, anyone.

"Buggering shit!" She thought for a moment that the word had slipped out of her mouth but realized that it was a male's voice. Startled, she got to her feet and realized that a blond-haired boy was standing only a few meters away. He was using one other to hack off a tree branch with a stick and the other to hold his cigarette. "Shit, shit, shit. Fils de pute!"

No. It can't be. But the boy's face angled toward her and she started.

"You!" she exclaimed, now severely ticked off. She marched over and shoved him hard in the shoulder. "Are you following me? Merlin, how desperate can you be?"

"I'm following you?" Louis repeated, strangely out of character with the cold expression that crossed his face. "Don't flatter yourself. I've been coming here for weeks now. It's the only place I can get any peace."

"You-" Carpathia shook her head. Any other person she would have been skeptical of but Louis was really full of surprises. "I didn't even think-" She glanced down at the cigarette smoking in his hand, distracted. "Are those Silvertongues?"

Louis checked the pack in his pocket for affirmation. "Right, Rose tells me you're a smoker too. Want one?"

I'm too tired to be angry. "Fine," she conceded, her rage subsiding. The other boy promptly lit her one and several moments of silence passed between them as they drew in breaths.

"Why were you beating up that poor tree?" she ventured.

Louis rolled his eyes. "I thought you didn't care."

"I don't. I like trees." After a beat: "What happened the other day with Gareth?"

Louis shifted slightly, his demeanor still icy. "I don't want to talk about it."

"He's my brother," she said quietly, "And I've never seen him so angry. I want to know."

Louis turned to study her for several moments and then he sighed. Some part of the Louis that Carpathia was used to seeing flooded back and a hint of his carefree smile settled on his face. "I'm surprised he hasn't told you. He's not very fond of people like me."

"People like you?" she inquired confusedly.

Louis sighed again and ashed out his cigarette. "Ah, suppose you might as well know. I'm gay."

Carpathia coughed. "Sorry?" She thought she hadn't heard right.

Louis looked at her meaningfully. "Don't tell anyone. My family still hasn't figured it out yet, except for maman, dad, and my sisters. They've known for ages."

"How-" Carpathia attempted to organize her thoughts out as quickly as possible. It made sense, she thought, the good looks, the queasiness around girls, the attention to detail…of course these were all stereotypes, but it did make sense. "How does my brother know?"

"Well, ah, lets just say…I made an error in judgment."

Carpathia stared incredulously at him for several moments and then burst into laughter. "You thought…you thought…Gareth…was…" she choked out between gasps before dissolving into another fit. It didn't take long for tears to start rolling down her cheeks.

"Are you done?" asked Louis with raised eyebrows.

"Yes," panted Carpathia, her eyes sparkling. "I'm sorry. It's…just that Gareth is probably the least likely of people I'd suspect."

"Yes, straight as an arrow," said Louis with a glint in his eye.

Carpathia stared at the blond, oddly touched by this gesture of trust. "Is this what you've wanted to tell me this whole time?" He hadn't even told his family.

Louis looked down at his feet, having the grace to look embarrassed. "Among other things."

"Like what?"

"Like…" he paused. "Like how you're not the only one who's had to go through shit at school. I also had someone hurt me. Quite badly, in fact. It's why I had to leave." He kicked at the leaves near their feet. "When I heard all the rumors about you this year, I had a gut instinct that I'd found somebody who understood. I've always trusted my instincts."

Carpathia was quiet, but her trained eyes on were an indication that she was listening. "Do you know how Veela blood works?" He glanced her with deep blue eyes and continued, "It's an attraction stimuli for people with the potential to be attracted—which usually includes members of the opposite sex and also, on some occasions, a few members of the…uh, same…sex." He smiled wryly. " 'Attraction stimuli' is a textbook answer. I'd say 'obsession' was more accurate. You should've seen the amount of attention I got at Beauxbatons after I hit puberty."

"And then I suppose some…bloke became involved?" said Carpathia gently. She ashed out her cigarette.

Louis lit her another one. "His name was Pierre. Pierre Dujardin…the most masculine, poofy-haired, polo-playing prick in our year. After rumors circulated that I favored the, uh, male side, he also happened to be my most active bully. That's what happens when you're from an old pureblood family, where that sort of things isn't really tolerated." Carpathia nodded. "Funny thing about Veela blood though. It tells you what you don't quite realize on your own…and it seemed that some part of Pierre favored the same side as well."

Louis exhaled and made a perfect smoke ring. "I really should have seen that hatred and obsession wasn't going to be a pretty combination but I couldn't help myself. He was cocky, bold and bloody good-looking, which was everything I liked. After I came back for my fifth year at school he cornered me and confessed that he was attracted to me. It was…exhilarating," the boy's voice softened to a low thrill. "To hear someone tell you that they can't stop thinking about you and that you're everything to them…so we went at it and kept at it for as long as we could. In secret, of course," he grimaced. "But nothing stays secret for long when you're at school. After five months a couple blokes caught us behind the Quidditch shed and everything went to hell."

There was several moments of silence as Louis contemplated his next few words. "It was…painful, afterwards, for me and Pierre. We stopped seeing each other but it was the taunting that got to him. His parents sent him Howler after his Howler and after about a month of it, he…snapped."

Louis's cigarette fell to the ground and he clenched his hands. His cheeks had become quite pale. "He cornered me again and this time he'd gone back to being big, bad bully. Only now his hatred was fueled by all that…obsessive attraction. He started socking me, yelling about how I'd tricked him with Veela magic and how he was going to murder me for what I'd done, so then I…hit back."

Carpathia waited. Louis covered his face with his hands and she realized he was struggling to contain himself. "It was supposed to be a Stunning spell, but we were standing near a ledge, you see. After—after it was over, they had to send him to the Monchant Infirmerie in Paris and he was so badly hurt that he didn't….didn't wake up for a week…that's when the school decided I wasn't all that welcome anymore."

"Louis," intervened Carpathia with low tones, reaching out to touch the boy's shoulder but he didn't remove his hands from his face.

"I feel awful," he said, his voice cracking, "My parents know the whole story but it was the Headmistress who told them. I never told them anything, I never told anyone anything…until now."

Carpathia sighed and determinedly put her arms around him. His head leaned forward on the hollow between her neck and chest and she stroked his back for several moments as he heaved and gasped. His hair was incomparably soft, she thought as it brushed her cheeks. He was really just a boy.

"It's alright," she murmured, "It wasn't your fault; it was defense. And it doesn't matter if you didn't tell anyone because you've told me."

When Louis had finally calmed down, he stood back with a watery smile and said, "People really fuck up the concept of love, don't they?"

She nodded and laughed in return.

AAA.

She found Isabel right where she wanted, alone and outdoors.

The girl was waiting by the side of the pitch, her face upturned towards the flitting black silhouettes of James and Al against the setting sun.

Carpathia crept up on her so silently that when she said her name, the girl turned and let out a little squeak.

"Oh! You scared me," she said, putting a hand over her chest. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"

Carpathia didn't reply. She scrutinized the girl with folded arms, taking in the wide innocent eyes and golden ribbons in her hair, and felt something hot bubble in her veins.

"Um, anyway…" said Isabel, her voice escalating to false cheeriness when she registered the blankness of Carpathia's expression. "I was just waiting for them to finish practice."

Carpathia burst into laughter. She shook her head, trying to smother the peals of mirth slipping out of her lips and failing, until Isabel cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "I—I don't understand. Did I say something funny-"

"Waiting for 'them'?" interrupted Carpathia softly, the smile disappearing instantly. "Which one? James or Al?"

Isabel's cheeks whitened as if the life had been sucked out of them. Carpathia stepped forward, her eyes glittering, feeling the fervor in her bloodstream egging her on. "I'd hoped this wouldn't happen," said Carpathia calmly. "I actually hoped that Al was about you because, frankly, I never wanted to see him hurt. But there's one thing I hate more," she took one more step forward, her eyes narrowing. "Watching him being lied to over and over again."

Isabel's mouth closed and her jaw tightened. Carpathia stood so close to the girl that the tip of her nose was brushing the girl's forehead. "I'm going to give you one week. You tell Al what you did, whether it was with James or anyone else. Tell him that you are not some blue-eyed angel you've fooled him into thinking you are. Tell him the truth and he won't have to hear it from me. Because when I tell it," her voice lowered menacingly, "There will be no defense for you to hide behind. I'll make sure he knows exactly that you're an undeserving bitch who will never know how to appreciate the love from a bloke like him."

When she turned on her heel and stalked off, she felt as if she'd been set fire from the inside out. Then, just as she thought she'd finally had a handle on things, she heard Isabel say with quiet maliciousness:

"He knows about your little crush, you know."

Carpathia stopped in her tracks.

"He knows all about it; he's just too afraid to ruin your friendship to tell you outright." Isabel chuckled humorlessly. "I bet you didn't know that, did you? I might be the undeserving bitch, but I was the one he said 'I love you' to this morning. So tell me, who do you think he'll listen to when you accuse me of cheating on him?"

It took Carpathia all she had not to march back and slap the girl. Instead, she wordlessly resumed walking.

She came first. She knew it.

AAA.

Once again, thanks for being so patient with me!

The scene with the duel was awfully fun to write. I know possessive magic has never been mentioned in the Harry Potter series but I thought it was a portion of my own creativity that I could infuse. The idea is that a wizard can 'carry' certain spells with their bodies instead of their wands, but it takes a great deal of energy and power to harness for a long time because humans aren't as good catalysts for magic as dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, or any other magical creature.

Sorry if strictly canon fans don't like it, but I prefer to put my twists into my fanfics.

Speaking of twists, yes, I'm aware that Draco Malfoy is supposed to be married to Astoria Greengrass but I decided to give him a bit of a storyline as well by ending up with kind of a bitch at first. Giving Scorpius a dysfunctional family background will serve its purpose in later plotlines, I assure you.

AND LOUIS IS GAY. HAHAHAHA. Come on, guys, I love having a gay character and it totally works for him. (If not, you can let me know but I can't exactly change his sexuality now).

Last but not least, hang in there ScoRose fans! I know there's a lot of blushing and dancing around the subject, but it'll get there I promise. I'm pushing them in the right direction so expect something climactic coming up.

Reviews appreciated!

Love,

~MissusWitch