5. Counting Down 'Til Summer
The next term seemed to fly by to Alastor. His grades suffered somewhat because he was looking forward to spending part of his summer holiday with Stewart's family. He was happier than he'd ever been before. Though he didn't realize until he was older that he'd been starved for affection all through his childhood and his friendship with the others fed that starvation. With that need partially sated, he longed for it to be fully sated, and so made attempts to receive affection from his parents and brother. The barest hint of such a thing from any of the three caused Alastor's heart to rejoice. Aurelius seemed to be treating him better without the prompting of any overtures on Alastor's part. As for his parents, Alastor wrote home to tell them that Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly would not be at the Pomfreys during the summer holidays in an attempt to gain attention from them. This was, of course, an outright lie and didn't sit well with him, but his yearning for affection overrode his natural honesty.
"Mr. Moody?"
"I'm sorry, Sir." Alastor shook himself from his thoughts and looked up at Professor Dumbledore, who was standing beside him. "Did you say something?"
The potions professor bent down so he could speak in a voice meant only for Alastor's ears. "You're not focusing on your potion like you should. If you're not more careful, you could hurt someone."
"Oh." Alastor could feel his face growing warm as he looked down at his potion. It looked nothing like it was supposed to. "Right, I'll pay better attention, Sir."
The professor didn't move away. "Please stay after, Mr. Moody. I would like to speak with you."
"Yes, Sir," Alastor replied, beginning to determine what he needed to add to the potion to fix it.
Straightening up, Professor Dumbledore moved away, observing other students' potions as he went. When the bell rang to end the class, Alastor approached the professor's desk.
"Have a seat, Mr. Moody."
Alastor sat down, fidgeting with his books. "What did you wish to speak with me about, Professor?"
"Your grades have been slipping since the start of the term, Mr. Moody," Professor Dumbledore replied, gazing at the boy over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. "They are still quite good, but not to your usual standards."
Alastor looked down at his lap, vaguely wondering why Professor Dumbledore's quietly-voiced statement stung more than any number of switchings from his father.
"I know, Sir."
"Why is that, Mr. Moody?" asked the professor, his bright blue gaze keen. "Has something happened at home?"
Alastor shook his head. "No, Sir, nothing's happened at home."
"Something else, then?" Alastor was surprised to realize there was genuine concern in the professor's voice.
Alastor hesitated, wondering how to explain. Finally, he decided to be honest. "It's because I'm looking forward to the summer holidays."
"You wish to return home that much?" Professor Dumbledore looked surprised.
"No, Sir, not exactly," Alastor replied, wondering how much he should tell the Potions professor.
Professor Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, pressing the tips of his long fingers together. "Then why are you looking forward to the summer holidays so much that your grades are slipping?"
"Well, I'll be visiting with Stewart Pomfrey's family," Alastor reluctantly told the professor.
The Potions professor studied Alastor for a long moment. "I see. Well, you'd best be off to lunch."
"Yes, Sir." Rising, Alastor left the potions classroom, wondering why it was so easy to talk with his Potions professor.
After his talk with Professor Dumbledore, Alastor made an effort to focus on his classes. When he and the other five gathered to 'hang out', they ended up studying more often than not. As the weather was looking so nice, they would go outside and study by the lake. Sometimes they would share stories about their families. Both Belladonna and Alastor never did, but the others made up for it.
"So what did Rolanda do next, Griff?"
"Well, since Mum had locked Ro's bedroom door, she climbed out the window and wandered off to go play with Poppy," Griffith answered Rremly's question, grinning broadly at the memory. "When Stew's mum brought Ro home that evening, Mum was furious."
The boys laughed with Griffith. Belladonna merely smirked and Alastor shook his head as he idly turned a page in his potions textbook.
"She sounds like a feisty one, Griff."
"Oh, she is, Al," Stewart answered for his friend. "So's Poppy."
Alastor shook his head as he stared blindly at his textbook, pondering over his newfound friends. Stewart was quite daffy and quite fond of singing, humming, or whistling 'God Save the Queen' and other ridiculously silly songs. Griffith couldn't seem to sit still and often tapped his foot, drummed his fingers, or bobbed his head to some tune only he could hear. Percy was the consummate charmer with his winning smile who loved to recite scenes from his favourite plays- and he had a particular fondness for two muggle playwrights called William Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde. Rremly was, well, Alastor had heard the girls describe him as a 'sweetie pie', whatever that was. He always had a smile and a chocolate frog ready for his friends. Except when they had upset stomachs, of course- then it was chicken soup. Belladonna was remarkably tough and forthright for a girl their age, and she was more than capable of taking care of herself. As for Alastor himself, he struggled sometimes to keep calm.
"Al?"
"What?" He looked up from the textbook when he heard Rremly speak.
The others were studying him with varying degrees of concern.
"Are you all right?" Percy asked.
"Of course I am," he replied, looking from one face to the next. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Looks were exchanged among the other five.
"That was a rather hefty sigh you gave there. Are you sure?"
"I'm fine, Stew," Alastor assured the other boy, letting a smile curve his mouth slightly. "Why don't you share another story about Poppy? Like that 'Kwarentine' one?"
Both Percy and Griffith laughed at the memory.
Stewart grinned, "All right, then. If you tell her I told you this story, I'll serenade you with 'God Save the Queen'."
"I solemnly swear I won't tell Poppy where the story came from," Alastor replied, his smile growing.
Chuckling, Stewart told his captive audience about a time when his parents took Stewart and Poppy to see their Aunt Brenna in the hospital, because she'd been injured in a Quidditch game, playing for the Appleby Arrows. Poppy had wandered off after visiting with Brenna and, when Stewart and his parents realized she was gone, they got worried and went looking for her. They eventually found her in one of the private wards, chatting away with one of the patients-an old grandmotherly type-as well as fluffing the old lady's pillow and singing a sweet little ditty to her.
"Basically, she was acting like a Healer-in-training," Stewart concluded with a grin.
The others laughed and Alastor asked, "Was this before or after she decided she was going to be a Healer?"
"Before," Stewart replied, grinning.
As it was almost time for dinner, they gathered up their books and headed for the castle.
The rest of the term passed quickly. Alastor applied himself to his studies and managed to perform well on his exams. Professor Dumbledore commended him on his Potions score, commenting, "It would appear you are focusing better, Mr. Moody."
"Thank you, Sir," Alastor smiled up at the Potions Professor and left the room. It felt like he was floating on air.
Before they knew it, the Leaving Feast had arrived and it was time to announce the winner of the House Cup. "In first place with four hundred and sixty-five points, Hufflepuff." The Hufflepuff table exploded with cheering as black and yellow decorations appeared including a black badger on a canary yellow background on the wall behind the staff table. "Hufflepuff wins the House Cup."
Alastor couldn't help cheering for Rremly and noticed that Percy, Griffith, and Belladonna were cheering from Gryffindor's table while Stewart and Felix cheered from Ravenclaw's. As he tried to wave at Rremly, which was hard because of all the whooping and hollering that was still taking place, Alastor didn't notice that his brother, whom he no longer sat beside at the table, was giving him a rather nasty look. All Alastor cared about was the fact that the Hufflepuffs, who rarely got any glory, had managed to win the House Cup. It seemed the Albrecht twins were of the same mind- clapping and whistling, all smiles.