The Good Son
Chapter Two
Christmas
James walked through the train, eagerly searching for his brother's compartment to try to get in a few minutes of good natured teasing before they arrived home. It was always good natured, James would never purposefully set out to hurt somebody; let alone his own brother but lately he had been noticing a strange emotion in his brother's eyes whenever they met in the corridors. He didn't know what it was but that didn't stop him from pestering the little guy, that's how Albus and he had always been. Friends. Brothers. Best Mates. Even though they always fought and bickered; they always had each other's backs when either was against the wall. The only reason he would sometimes hex his baby brother was because it was expected of him, it was what Gryffindor expected in their members – to hex Slytherins. But Al was his brother, so he never cast any of the high level jinxes he was capable of and he always cast a numbing charm to take away the worst effects of the spell.
Finally he found the compartment in which sat his cousin Rose and a few of her friends. She looked different, over the months her hair had become lighter and her skin had paled. The flecks of chocolate in her eyes seemed to be slowly fading in favour of bright silver. He didn't think much of it; he assumed she had merely been learning beauty charms. Her friends were two Slytherins in the compartment with her, an olive youth whom James recognized as a Zabini and another girl with a pixie cut. It still startled him to see that his Ravenclaw cousin preferred the company of Slytherins to that of her own house but he had to admit that Rose and Albus had been close for years. Odd though, his brother wasn't in the compartment – maybe he was off to the loo; James decided to wait for him and catch up with his cousin.
"Where's Al?" he asked good-naturedly, running his hand through his dishevelled dark brown hair; when he had been younger his hair had been a deep brunette but over the years it had darkened till it was nearly black.
"At Hogwarts," said Rose acidly, "Can't blame him really."
"What do you mean?" said James, ignoring the snickers from the Slytherins.
"He doesn't want to come home because of you and Uncle Harry," said Rose, her voice still dripping venom. Honestly the girl should have been as Slytherin.
"What did dad and I do?" asked James dumbfounded, but there was an eerie doubt trickling into him.
"Maybe it's something to do with the fact that the great Harry Potter hasn't written to him all term," said the Zabini boy with a scowl on his face. Delphin Zabini was fiercely protective of the younger Potter and considered him one of his best mates, it rankled on his nerves how often he had heard Albus cry himself to sleep in the first few weeks of school.
"But Hedwigs been dropping off letters at least twice a week," said James, ignoring the jibe against his father.
"Hedwig had been dropping you letters," pointed out Rose, Aunt Ginny and Mum are the only two sending letters to Albus.
"But then what did I do? It's not my fault dad hasn't written him," there was a twinge of anger directed towards his father in that sentence.
"You're joking right," said the girl with the pixie-cut, "When your own brother needed you the most, you started bullying him. Now can you get the hell out of our compartment, I'm trying to enjoy my pumpkin pasties and the sight of your self-righteous Gryffindor head is making me nauseas." Katherine Nott saw three of the Slytherin boys in her year as brothers, and had a not so secret crush on Xavier which negated any brotherly feelings for him. That meant that nobody messed with them; she had never had it easy – she was a Nott in a world where her name was worth mud and she wasn't a girly pure-blood like the other girls either – so when the boys readily welcomed her into their fold she had instantly become attached to them at the hip.
James opened and closed his mouth like a fish, aghast, before turning on his heel and walking back to his own compartment to say his goodbyes, Kings Cross was visible in the distance now.
He felt sick, he finally realised what that strange emotion in Al's eyes had been: Fear.
His baby brother was scared of him.
(*)(*)(*)
"I'm starving," groaned Scorpius, flopping dramatically over the leather couch so that his boots were on Xavier's lap and his head lay on Albus' knees.
"You're always starving," laughed Albus, grinning at his friend's dramatics.
"Can you blame him," said Xavier sarcastically, "Breakfast was only three hours ago."
"Exactly!" declared Scorpius, getting to his feet and grabbing both his friends' wrists to drag them behind him, "Three hours without food is three too many. Too the kitchens!"
"Does this worry you?" asked Xavier as they found themselves being tugged behind their overzealous friend.
"I grew up with the Weasleys," said Albus with an eye roll, "I'm used to dealing with their massive appetites. Every Christmas James would –" he fell silent, his eyes taking on the usual downcast expression that they always took whenever he would speak about his brother.
"Hey," said Xavier, in an oddly gentle voice, "It's his loss, not yours."
(*)(*)(*)
"Where's Albus?" asked Ginny, scanning the crowd for her youngest son, not noticing James shifting uncomfortably beside her.
"He's at Hogwarts," said Victoire, fixing her uncle with an icy glare that did not go unmissed by the rest of the family. Oddly enough, Teddy was shooting angry looks at his godfather as well.
"Why?" asked Ginny, not understanding what reason her son would have for not coming home.
"Ask him," spat Victoire, resplendent in her Veela beauty, golden hair flashing in the afternoon sun as she pointed at Harry. The older man took a step back when faced with his nieces rage; she had inherited the Veela fire along with the Weasley temper, "I used to be proud to be Harry Potter's niece, now I'm ashamed to admit we're related." She turned on her heel and stalked off, Teddy going with her.
"What is she talking about Harry?" asked Ginny, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized her husband.
"I have no idea," said the older man sharply, meeting her gaze with as much resistance as he dared.
Rose scoffed before turning to hug her mother, who had just arrived. Aunt Ginny had lost her brother in the war, Uncle George his twin and yet neither of them held the same hostility for Slytherins as Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry.
They seemed to have forgotten that when the Dark Lord was at the height of his power, even Gryffindors had fought under the Dark Mark.
(*)(*)(*)
"She's mine isn't she," said Draco, a statement not a question, as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his chest against her bare back.
"She's yours," admitted Hermione quietly, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as his grip on her tightened. Her wedding band gleamed in the candle light, the red ruby given to her by Ron betraying the emerald that had always been bound around her heart.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he said, knowing the answer but determined to know.
"How has Scorpius' life been for him? Has he ever been treated fairly by other people?" she asked back, needing him to understand, "I didn't want that for Rose."
"I understand," he murmured, "It still doesn't make up for the fact that I've missed eleven years of my daughter's life."
"I'm sorry that I kept them from you," she said sadly, "But you have Scor and Cassie."
"I do," he said, smiling at the thought of his children, "Wait – you kept them from me?"
"Dammit," she cursed under her breath, before falling silent for a long time.
"Hugo is yours too," she finally whispered, "I cast a glamour on his when he was born; he looked too much like you for Ron to not suspect." He pulled away from her suddenly, anger dancing on his features.
"Why did you marry him then Hermione!" he yelled.
"You know why," she said, her eyes downcast as she pulled the sheets to cover her breasts before turning to face him. After the war, the Ministry had basically forced Hermione and Ron together – something Ron seemed very keen on despite Hermione's own misgivings. Their marriage was a loveless one, although Ron seemed blind to that fact, seemingly thinking that Hermione was erfectly happy with her lot in life as he was.
"Astoria and I are divorcing," said Draco suddenly, "It's mutual," he added when she seemed to want to interrupt. "I'm going to claim them as mine Hermione, they're Malfoys, they belong in the Manor – not with that Weasel."
"You would take my children from me," she spat harshly and bitterly.
"No, I would take our children and raise them together with you," he said quietly.
"Draco," she said, stroking his cheek as his meaning sank in.
"The war has been over for twenty years Hermione, you owe the world nothing anymore," he said, "but you owe yourself the chance to be happy."
"It's not that simple and you know it," she said softly.
"It is," he insisted, "Marry me Hermione."
She looked at the genuine look in his eyes and kissed him, feeling the passion and adoration that her kisses with Ron had always lacked. With Ron everything felt forced, with Draco she felt safe, they fit together.
"Yes," she said, "I'll marry you."
(*)(*)(*)
Christmas morning dawned dark and early for James Sirius Potter. He was up at five, hurriedly jumping out of bed before the sun dared peak over the horizon and rushing to his sibling's rooms. It was tradition, that he jumped on their beds in the early hours to wake them and then dragged them both downstairs to open their presents under the Christmas tree. Both of them hated mornings, a fact that James always gleefully took advantage off.
He barged into Albus' room with a loud crash before freezing at the sight of the empty bed before him. He stared for a few minutes at the empty bed before silently walking to Lily's room and shaking her awake.
The Potter household seemed to be walking on eggshells for the entire Christmas Holidays. Teddy had moved out during the term after a lengthy argument with Harry, the details of which were unknown but James suspected it had something to do with Albus. Since then, the metamorphmagus to visit Ginny when Harry was at work; and while he had still been the same towards Lily, he had been distancing himself from James altogether. Ginny was furious with Harry and had slept in the guest room for the first week of the holiday, she had given James a thorough tongue lashing and had then been in a surly mood ever since. Harry seemed unrepentant and had pulled James aside in the first week to speak to him; James still remembered the closing lines of their conversation.
"Don't you still love him?" asked James.
"Of course I love him, he's my son," said Harry, "But you can't trust him, he's a Slytherin."
When the two of them settled on the living room floor beside the pile of presents under the tree to dutifully wait for their mother to finish making her morning coffee and their father to brush his teeth and shave; James couldn't help but realise that it wasn't the same without Albus.
(*)(*)(*)
"Get up! Get up! Get up!" Scorpius yelled as she bounced up and down on Albus' bed.
"Mmmrgh," he groaned sleepily, "Go away Jamie."
"I am not this Jamie you speak of," said Scorpius in indignation, "I happen to be much better looking."
"Get up mate," said Xavier tiredly rubbing his eyes, "before Scorpius decides to jump on you instead of your bed."
"Ten more minutes," grumbled Albus as he felt his sheets being pulled away, exposing him to the cold air of the dormitories, "SCORPIUS!" he yelled, jumping out of bed in search of warmer clothes as he shivered in his boxers. Ordinarily he thought it was really cool that his common room was located below the lake, but now in the middle of winter the frigid temperature was dreadful.
"Success!" said Scorpius in delight.
"C'mon we have presents," Xavier imitated their blond haired friend, lifting his own pile of gifts and leaving them on Albus' bed. Scorpius did the same, and after much banter and teasing the three eleven year old boys settled down to open their presents together.
Albus got his usual Weasley Jumper from Nana Molly, emerald green with a silver "A" across the front, and a tin of home-made mince pies. Uncle George and his family sent him a hamper of the latest Weasley Wizard Wheezes merchandise. Uncle Percy and family sent him books – no surprise there. He received some clothing from Shell Cottage, a set of ornamental dragon scales from Uncle Charlie and Aunt Hermione sent him a talking homework planner and a pair of omninoculars from Rose. Xavier and Scorpius had both given him a selection of Honeydukes finest, which was ironically what he had owl-ordered for them as well. There were four presents left on his bed, and he reached for the neatly wrapped teal box on top. Teddy always wrapped his gifts in teal, ever since Baby Albus had developed a fascination with nine-year old Teddy's hair. Inside was a set of hair potions, a seemingly girly gift until he read the label discovered that these were intended for changing hair colour – the perfect prank – and a pile of chocolate frogs. The next gift, wrapped in red, was from his mother and held the latest broomstick servicing kit (she apologised in her letter that he wouldn't be able to use it in Hogwarts, but defended herself by saying she had expected him to come home for the holidays and that it wasn't her fault first years weren't allowed to bring their brooms with them.
"Scor, I think I got one of your presents by accident," he said, holding up the third gift, which was labelled as being from one Draco Malfoy.
"Nope," the blonde popped the P, "It's addressed to you." And sure enough it read, "To Albus Severus Potter."
Surprised at the thoughtfulness of his friends father he tore open the gift and grinned appreciatively, a book on hexes and jinxes that would be undeniably useful when he was next confronted by his bullies. Flicking though the book, he noticed the bat-bogey hex, the jelly legs jinx, the mucus multiplication hex and many more. Scor's dad is awesome! That happy thought was discarded when he realised that his own father hadn't sent him anything. But this was Christmas, he shoved the thought aside angrily, his father wouldn't ruin his mood today.
The last gift was a flat box and Albus felt his heart constrict when he opened it. A silver photo frame, the edges wreathed in intricately carved snakes but it was the photo that brought tears to his eyes. Three boys lay collapsed in a heap on the ground, the broomsticks lying discarded behind them, the boys laughing and grinning as they untangled themselves from each other. Teddy's blue hair was easily recognizable, as was the twin mops of dishevelled Potter hair – one brunette, one inky black. James, Teddy and Albus; before Teddy had started dating Victoire, before Al had gone to Hogwarts, before James had stopped caring, back when he had thought the bond between them was unbreakable.
Written on the back of the frame, etched into the silver read . . .
You're still my baby brother Al.
-J
And Albus Potter cried.