Chapter Four
Collected

"Don't let it worry you," Rose said as the three made their way to their first lesson of the year - which, as it happens, was History of Magic. "So the portrait didn't move. It happens all the time."

"Yeah, mate," Scorpius jumped in, desperate to get back on Rose's good side after insinuating that she had no other friends. "It was probably nothing."

"Yeah," Albus replied half-heartedly, although already drafting a letter to his father in his mind's eye.

"Anything out of the ordinary," Harry had said, "anything at all - even the most mundane thing you think I'd never be interested in - put it in a letter and tell me. Trust me, it'll put your mind to rest."

"Good morning, you three!" Professor Dean Thomas exclaimed, meeting them at his classroom door, having walked the other way down the corridor. "Early to class, I see."

"Rose wanted to make sure we start the year off on a good note by arriving early to all of our classes," Scorpius explained, walking through the doorway.

"It's not going to last," Albus whispered as he passed his Professor. Professor Thomas barely managed to stifle his laugh, but managed to pass it off as a particularly violent cough.

"Did you have a good summer, Sir?" Rose asked him, taking her usual seat in the front row and looking expectantly at the boys until they sat either side of her.

"Splendid," Professor Thomas replied, sitting on the front edge of his desk. "I spent the summer in Albania with a few of my friends, doing some research for this year's classes."

"Albania?" Albus asked, suddenly interested in his cousin's conversation with his teacher. "Dad had to go on an emergency trip to Albania a few weeks ago."

"Yeah," the educator replied sheepishly, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck, "we ran into a spot of trouble with a few Death Eaters part way through our trip."

"What happened?" Scorpius asked, suddenly enthralled by the story.

"We almost stumbled across something that the Death Eaters have been hiding for years, it seems," Professor Thomas replied, brushing the comment off. "Good morning Joseph, Marcus," he continued, greeting the two Hufflepuff boys that had just entered the classroom. "Please, join us. We were just discussing our summers."

The two boys moved forward and took the front row seats beside their three Gryffindor counterparts. "I had a pretty boring summer, actually," one, Marcus, offered. "My dad took me to see a couple of Qudditch games, but that was about it."

"Same here," the other, Joseph, replied. "My mum took my sister and I to Hogsmeade one day."

Wow, Albus thought, not believing his ears. These boys had a really boring summer.

"There's more to that story than Professor Thomas told us," Rose mentioned to the boys as they left the History of Magic classroom and made their way down to the dungeons, where they would partake in their first Potions class for the year. "I'm sure of it."

"Let it go, Rose," Albus sighed, walking ahead of his two best friends. "There's a reason he changed the subject. He obviously doesn't want to tell us, so we shouldn't go digging to find it."

He heard her sigh, and new he'd got himself in her bad books. That's just fine, he thought icily. I don't want to deal with her right now anyway.

"Ah! Albus, m'boy!" Professor Slughorn exclaimed as soon as Albus walked through the door. "Professor Slytherin has been looking forward to having a class with you!"

"Is the rest of the school aware of Professor Slytherin's arrival yet, sir?" Albus asked, setting himself up around his cauldron as his classmates slowly filed into the room.

"Not just yet, m'boy," Professor Slughorn replied, lowering his voice. "The other Professors and I thought it would be the perfect time to announce the Professor's arrival at the Minister's Grand Feast on Friday night."

"The Minister's Grand Feast?" Scorpius asked, finally arriving and setting himself up between Albus and Rose, who was now not speaking to her cousin. "Why is the Minister coming?"

"Official business for the twentieth anniversary, young Mr Malfoy," the Professor replied, stepping back and clasping his hands together. "I'll be having a few get togethers throughout the year for some select students," he told the three Gryffindors. "Look for my owl."

Scorpius looked to Albus, confused. "What was that about?"

Albus sighed, as did Rose. "We've just been collected."

"Collected?"

"What Albus means," Rose interrupted with a thorough explanation, "is that we have just joined the Slug Club."

"The Slug Club?" Scorpius repeated, almost disgusted.

"The Slug Club," Albus and Rose replied in unison.

"Now take out your wands," Professor Jacobs instructed in Transfiguration. "Potter!" Albus looked up reluctantly, already very aware of what was coming next. "The incantation to change a goblet into an animal?"

Albus, who was stressing over the portrait already, had had it with Professor Jacobs picking on him all class, and finally cracked. "Wingardium leviosa?" he asked sarcastically.

You could almost see the steam coming out of Professor Jacobs' ears. "Detention! Friday night, my office, 6 o'clock. Every minute you are late is another hour you must stay."

"Friday isn't going to work for me, Sir," Albus replied, standing up with his wand in his hand. "I'm a required guest of the Minister's feast."

"OUT!" Professor Jacobs roared, pointing to the door. "GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM!"

"Gladly," Albus replied, picking up his bag and marching out the door.

As soon as he'd rounded the corner at the other end of the hall, the full impact of what had just happened hit him. "Oh no," he moaned, sliding down the wall.

"Hey!" he heard a muffled voice coming from his backpack. "Hey! Al!"

"Sirius," he breathed in fear, fishing around his backpack for the portrait frame that was only one of many back at the house. "Sirius, what are you doing here?"

"First things first - get your butt outta there. I heard what happened after you left from Rose's portrait. Take the secret passageway behind that tapestry and do exactly what I tell you."

"But Sirius-"

"-Now," Sirius replied, putting his serious face on.

"Ok, I'm going," Albus replied, standing up and hurrying through the passageway.

"Good. Now turn left up here," Sirius instructed. "And right around that corner."

"Sirius, where are we going?"

"Keep your voice down, and take these stairs. The ones going down, not up!"

"Why am I in the Entrance Hall?" Albus asked the portrait, who didn't answer.

"Take the stairs to the dungeons. Stop at the picture of the bowl of fruit, and tickle the pear."

"Tickle the...?"

"Yes, Al, tickle the pear. Don't ask questions."

"Yes sir," the second year replied sarcastically, tickling the pear. "Hey! It's a handle!"

"Don't yell it out for the whole world to hear! Now get inside. Quickly! Before someone sees you!"

Confused, Albus turned the handle and opened the door. "Whoa! Is this the kitchen?"

"Certainly is, Sir," a tiny young house elf replied, stepping forward and bowing so low that her nose touched the floor. "Can I get you anything, Sir?"

"No, thanks. I'm not entirely sure why Sirius led me in here. And my name's Albus, by the way. Albus Potter."

An echo of his surname rang through the room as the house elves rapidly whispered to each other.

"Forgive me, Albus Potter," the young elf he was talking to breathed, bowing again, this time with an air of reverence. "Are you sure I cannot get you something? Tea? Treacle Tart?"