Stand

"Mr. Potter, are you even listening to me?"

Albus's head snapped up to meet the gaze of a very displeased Professor Wickham.

"Sorry, Professor," he murmured. Wickham narrowed his eyes at him but otherwise did not comment on his out-of-place behavior. Albus mentally berated himself. He never let himself daydream in Wickham's class. The man already spent most of his time trying to find reasons to get any Potter he could thrown in detention. Albus sighed quietly to himself.

Why can't he just leave me alone? It's not like I intentionally cause disruptions in his class, and I always-

"Mr. Potter!"

Albus actually jumped this time, causing several snickers to erupt from his fellow classmates, much to his embarrassment.

"Yes, sir?"

"I have now asked you the same question twice."

Albus winced. Wickham was in a foul mood at the best of times, and one of his biggest annoyances was having to repeat himself. To put his unexplainable dislike for Potters on top of it, Albus knew he was in a bad situation already.

"I apologize, Professor. I'm not feeling very well today," he lied off the top of his head. Wickham stared at him coolly.

"Be that as it may, being ill is not an excuse for not paying attention in my class. If you feel you are not capable of sitting through the lecture, you should excuse yourself and go to the Hospital Wing," Wickham growled, though the look on his face told Albus he should not, under any circumstances, ask to leave to see the nurse.

"Yes, sir," he whispered solemnly. "I am sorry."

"Now, can anyone with a competent brainplease tell me-"

"Excuse me?" Albus interrupted immediately, stung and shocked that even Wickham would be so crass. Wickham looked at him murderously.

"Mr. Potter, you have now not only caused a disturbance in my class, but spoken out of turn. If you are ill, I suggest you leave now," Wickham snarled, whatever remaining shreds of good grace he was clinging to abandoning him as he rounded on Albus.

"You have no right to call me incompetent," Albus told him angrily. Wickham stared at him for a full five seconds in shock. Albus was practically shaking with anger.

James was the outspoken one, the prankster, the troublemaker. Lily was the cute one, the one who got everything she wanted, the baby and the sweet one. Albus was the quiet one. He was the one who got good grades, kept his head down and his nose clean and never - never, ever - talked back to teachers. For nearly two and a half years he'd calmly and quietly apologized for causing disruptions, for speaking out of turn, for inadvertently drawing attention to himself.

For two and a half years he had put up with Wickham's bullying. He'd listened to the man call his brother an idiot (not that Albus disagreed), a glory-seeker (which Albus found amusing since James was the Seeker for Gryffindor, and Seekers got all the glory) and a nuisance (completely deserved). He'd taken all sorts of back-handed compliments, smirks and sneers in stride, telling himself getting in a fight with a professor was not worth it.

Albus may have been the quiet one, and he may not care to have people noticing him for his name, but he was not one to take an insult to his intelligence lightly. He was top of his class - he thought - and Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch team as well as favorite to be Captain next year as a fourth year. On top of all that, he spent his precious free time tutoring other students in Defense Against Dark Arts.

"Mr. Potter, sit down," Wickham said softly, his tone poisonous. Albus looked down in surprise to see he'd gotten to his feet. He had no recollection of doing so. Finding himself in such a position however, he was not about to back down.

"I'm sorry, sir," he started softly, looking down to gather his thoughts. When he raised his head again, his face was hard.

"I've sat through this class for almost two and a half years, sir, and I can't sit down anymore and let you treat me as though I've spent every minute in your class trying to cause a disruption. I have never intentionally drawn attention to myself; I have answered almost every single question you have ever asked me, and the answers I didn't know, I looked up. I have never turned in an essay or homework assignment late or incomplete. In fact, I usually write more than the required amount.

"I've done well on every exam you've ever given and have sat quietly in the back of your classroom, not talking out of turn or passing notes or jinxing my classmates or pulling pranks. I have never disrespected you, either to your face or behind your back, which is more than many of my peers could say."

Albus glanced around to see several of his classmates quickly avert their eyes. He took a deep breath.

"Sir, I enjoy Defense Against the Dark Arts immensely, and you are one of the best teachers at Hogwarts...but I cannot sit here and allow you to insult my intelligence because for the first time in the last two and a half years you've had me as a student I had a lot on my mind and could not concentrate on your lecture. I'm sorry if I've offended you, but I don't deserve this kind of treatment. I am not my brother, Professor Wickham. You would do well to remember that."

And with that, Albus swept his things into his bag and started toward the door while Wickham stared at him in open-mouthed shock. He had just turned the handle and was nearly out into the corridor before the man found his voice.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Albus turned. "To Professor McGonagall's office, sir. I assumed you would send me there yourself anyway," he said reasonably.

Wickham blinked several times before shaking his head as though to clear it.

"Sit down, Potter. Do not speak for the rest of class. Stay behind when the bell rings."

Albus hesitated. He'd fully intended to go to Professor McGonagall and await his punishment there. However, Wickham was not staring at him with loathing and anger as he'd expected.

"Sit down," he repeated softly. Albus closed the door and made his way back to his desk. Scorpius and Rice stared at him as he sat down, but they weren't the only ones. As Albus's gaze swept the room, several people turned around quickly, ducking their heads.

"Now that we've had that lovely interruption," Wickham started, turning once more to the blackboard, "let us continue."

-o-

Albus remained seated when the bell rang. Scorpius cast him a worried look and Rice clapped him encouragingly on the shoulder as they passed to leave for lunch.

He sat there calmly, gathering his materials back into his bag and then sitting with his hands clasped on the desk in front of him, awaiting his fate.

When the last student had left the room, Wickham flicked his wand. The classroom door slammed shut with a gust of wind that sent several papers left on the front desk fluttering. Albus felt the first stirrings of unease.

"Mr. Potter," Wickham began, turning to him at long last. Albus stared calmly back, not speaking. "Never, in all my years of teaching, has a student ever spoken to me the way you did today. I have never been so disrespected in my life. I should ban you from Quidditch the way you acted today."

Albus felt his mouth go dry. Banned from Quidditch? He wouldn't surely- not to his own team!

"Professor-"

"Do not interrupt, Potter. I should report this to McGonagall and have you serving detentions from now until the end of your Hogwarts career. I should revoke any and all privileges concerning leisure activities and Hogsmeade visits. You accused me of some very serious things."

"Sir-"

"However," Wickham continued, cutting Albus off and causing his heart to skip a beat, "what you said today has made me see how unfair I've been to you these last two years. I want to apologize for treating you thus and for insulting you."

Albus had to remind himself that staring open-mouthed at someone was considered rude. He forced his mouth closed and stood up, moving quickly to the front of the room where Wickham still stood.

"Sir-" he began, only to be cut off again.

"Albus, I've treated you unjustly, and I owe you an apology for that." The Defense teacher looked down at him, and the tiniest of smiles lifted the corners of his mouth. "I hope you won't think me too harsh for still giving you detention though. You did disrupt my class."

Albus couldn't keep the grin off his face then. He chuckled. He wanted to shout for joy. All this trouble and he was only getting detention? It was more than he could have hoped to hope for. "Of course, sir. Friday night as usual then?"

"You've been in here too often if you can say that, Potter," Wickham said, and Albus was sure he was only imagining the warmth of fondness in the man's voice.

"Well whose fault is that?" he couldn't help asking, thinking of several undeserved detentions he'd served. Wickham looked at him somberly then.

"You're right," he said reluctantly. "But that won't get you off the hook for this one. Friday night, seven-thirty sharp."

"Yes, sir," Albus agreed readily. He grabbed his bag off his desk and made to leave the room. At the door he paused and looked back.

"Professor Wickham?"

"Yes, Albus?"

"Thanks," he said softly. "I know it's hard to admit you're wrong sometimes."

Wickham gave him another tiny smile. "And I know it's hard to live in the shadow of your brother. Especially when he casts such a large shadow," he said half-jokingly. Albus smiled back.

"Well, it means a lot to me that you said all this to me. Really," he said sincerely. Wickham's smile grew for just a fraction of a second before disappearing altogether, replaced by his usual scowl. He waved Albus away as though irritated with him.

"Get out of here, Potter. You're going to make people think I'm going soft."

Albus chuckled again. Things were beginning to look a bit brighter.

A/N: So I haven't updated this in FOREVER. And for those of you following my other story, you're probably doubly frustrated with me. I'm sorry. I've been super super busy the last few months, making super important college-related decisions and trying not to flunk my last semester of high school and trying not to rip throats out in frustration over yearbook. I'm very stressed, and all of my creative energy is spent either writing things for classes, on yearbook, or losing myself in my head to keep myself from going insane. In fact, the only reason I wrote this was because I was supposed to be writing a paper for my government class, and I really didn't want to. So here you go, I guess. My procrastinating is your present.

This is set in Albus's third year, in case you didn't catch that. I realize I haven't really set the groundwork for the bitter history Wickham has with James and Albus, but I'll be posting a chapter for that eventually. All you really need to know is that Wickham loathes James and before this scene, disliked Albus merely on principle, assuming as so many do, that the brothers are similar in personality and interests and therefore must both be intolerable students.

I do love Albus. And for some of you who were wondering, he's not always so grouchy. But most of the chapters I've posted have been of his adolescence, and everyone knows those preteen/early-teen years are horrible. He does have a fun side. I've started a Quidditch chapter, so hopefully we'll get to see that soon.

Please review, and please forgive me for my hiatus.
-Megan