The Good Son
Chapter One
Forgotten
It had been two months since his Sorting and Albus found that he quite enjoyed Hogwarts and although it had taken a while, he finally found himself feeling at home in the large castle. He enjoyed his lessons, finding them both fascinating and enjoyable; with the exception of History of Magic and Herbology – History of Magic was the most boring subject that was known to man whilst Professor Longbottom favoured Gryffindor, treating the Slytherins as inferior students in every way. In his first Herbology lesson, Scorpius had lost his house five points because he had been gotten sick at the smell of dragon dung (Neville's favourite fertilizer).
He was also surprised to find that, contrary to popular belief, his fellow Slytherin's were no different from the rest of the student body. None of them seemed inherently evil, not even Vincent Goyle, a burly seventh year who was built like a boulder and possessed the intelligence of a rock to match. There were three other boys in his year, all of whom he got on remarkably well with considering his father had warned him against their names since the day he was bone.
Xavier Avery was as skinny as a rake, with hair as black as Albus'. The difference being however that Xavier's was sleek and straight, whilst Albus always managed to achieve a hairstyle that defied gravity without putting in any effort whatsoever. Xavier was not very talkative but he had an incredibly sarcastic sense of humour and could tear people to pieces with insults alone.
Delphin Zabini was an olive skinned boy with curly brown hair, he was quite a pervert to be honest, but the other boys found him to be incredibly amusing (although he sometimes overdid it). He also lived in terror of Professor Longbottom but was favoured by Professor Slughorn.
And lastly there was Scorpius Malfoy, whom he had met on the train. The blonde boy had quickly gotten over being placed in Slytherin and seemed determined to make the most of it. He more than made up for Albus' meek, passive personality with his exuberance and generally bold nature. He was also exceptionally intelligent.
Albus found that he was fast becoming close friends with the three boys, and the quartet were usually joined by Rose (who although had managed to become a Ravenclaw, found her fellow house-mates to be dreadfully boring and spent most of her time with Al and Scorpius) and Katherine Nott, who was more of a tomboy and despised spending time with her fellow girls.
Albus only wished his family would be as accepting of him as his friends were. In the first month of school he had sent five or more letters home every week and had received two in response. One from his mother telling him that it didn't matter that he had been made a Slytherin and that she still loved him, and a second later that month from his mother explaining that she couldn't write for the past month because she had been out of the country for the Prophet. He had yet to receive a letter from his father.
At first he had put it down to his father being too busy to respond, but after waiting six weeks and not receiving a reply to any of his letters whilst Hedwig II (Named for her heroic predecessor), his father's personal owl, continuously swoop over the Gryffindor table and drop of letters to his brother he came to the realisation that Harry simply didn't want to write to him. So he started addressing his letters to his mother solely and tried to bite back the pain that accompanied the morning post every morning. He and his father had always been close but he hadn't received a single letter from his dad ever since he had become a Slytherin. It stung.
The only letters he got from home where the weekly deliveries from Aunt Hermione, the regular letters from his mother and surprisingly enough, the random letter from Scorpius' dad who wanted to thank him for being so friendly to his son despite the bad blood between himself and Harry.
And then there was James. . .
James and Albus had always fought and bickered, but there had always been a degree of affection and brotherly love behind it. Despite James' tendency to annoy Albus within an inch of his sanity, he had idolized his older brother for much of his life. Then he had become a Slytherin and James seemed content to hex him whenever they passed each other in the corridors. Sometimes, he liked to think that he saw the flicker of concern in his brother's eyes when he, Albus doubled over because of a particularly nasty stinging hex but more often than not; he was becoming convinced that his brother simply didn't care anymore. It hurt Albus more than he would ever show, not physically, but emotionally because this was James. James who had always been his protective, annoying, lovable big brother – who had become his worst tormentor ever since Albus' tie had turned green.
The Christmas Holidays were coming up, it was already mid-November and the sign-up sheets had been pasted to the house notice boards. Albus decided to stay at Hogwarts, he really didn't want to have to go home and deal with James and his father. At least if he stayed at Hogwarts, he could pretend that his dad still cared about him.
(*)(*)(*)
"Al," Rose said, rushing up to him in the corridor with a crestfallen look on her face, "Why aren't you coming home for Christmas?"
"You really have to ask that," Albus said, tugging at his green and silver tie to emphasise his point.
"I know its hard Al but they must still be in shock, come home," Rose said, not believing her own words. She knew how judgemental her father could be, and over the years her Uncle Harry had become just as bad. Most of her cousins idolised James and when he started bullying Albus, many where content to turn a blind eye. Rose and Victoire (who was in her seventh year – and was the only one except Teddy to be older than James and Fred II) were furious at their behaviour but there was only so much they could do.
"I'm staying here," said Albus stubbornly, "Xav and Scorpius are staying as well, the three of us will have the whole common room to ourselves because everyone else is going home. It's going to be a lot of fun." Nine weeks had passed by and he hadn't received a single letter from his father, three of which he had not even bothered to write back. Sometimes he regretted choosing Slytherin, when he saw his family huddled together at the Gryffindor Table, when he noticed how awkward conversations with Roxy and Molly and Lucy had become.
It didn't matter, he would tell himself, Slytherin was his family now. His father had said that his house wouldn't matter, but it did; it hurt and stung that they seemed to have abandoned him so quickly. But he took his rage, and channelled it into his studies, because he wasn't living for them anymore . . . he was living for himself.