18/08/2016
Stuck On a Puzzle
I have been searching from
The bottom to the top for such a sight
As the one I caught when I saw your
Fingers dimming the light
Like you're used to being told that you're trouble
And I spent all night stuck on a puzzle
He could see her stirring feebly, her hunched figure only a silhouette to him in the dim moon light, the stench of blood choking him and the pain of his torn flesh rippling through his broken body.
Unable to stand and with one hand clutched over his wound in a wishful attempt to quell the bleeding, he dug his elbow into the soft earth to edge himself forwards, swallowing the grunts of pain that hit his lips as he struggled towards her. The wet grass beneath him soaked through his robes, with blood or water he was unsure.
She was mere feet from him but he could not see her face, her head against the earth, her body still shuddering even now. He breathed her name but she gave no sign of hearing.
If he could only reach her before she fell still; if only he had not been such a fool and had stopped it when the chance was still there; if he only had his wand, and had not lost it in the fray; if only someone would come for them, find them in the ruin, promise him she would be safe just as he had once promised, and then he could allow himself to die.
He arrived with a twirl of his cloak, staggering from the apparation, straightening hurriedly and storming down the empty corridor without pause.
He was late again, and he knew it incensed his master, but what alternative was there when he had been preoccupied with work so crucial to their cause?
By the time he reached the manor's top storey he was panting for breath, and his brisk pace slowed ever so slightly as he started down the long corridor to his master's chambers.
'You're late, Goyle.'
He rippled with anger at the sound of the drawling voice, and he swivelled to face its owner. There, concealed in the shadows at the mouth of an adjoining corridor, was the thin, pointed face, more lined now than he remembered.
'I had business to attend to,' he snarled back. To his dismay, he saw a smile creep across the face of the tall man before him. 'And what are you doing dawdling out here when our master has requested our presence?'
'My tardiness is due to work I was carrying out at the request of our master, Goyle,' the man replied. 'I doubt you can say the same for yourself.'
'For your information I was at the school,' retorted Goyle, 'and I have a message of my own to give our master …'
'Then I suggest you quicken your pace,' the smirking lips told him. 'If the news you carry is as important as you seem to believe then I am sure our master would view your time-wasting as a great misfortune.'
His anger roared in his ears. He stood in seething silence as the man, smiling his loathsome smile, slithered out of the shadows and started down the corridor towards their master's chambers, striding with that regal air he had detested as long as he could recall. Goyle hurried after him, his eyes fixed on the back of the man's head of thinning silver hair, gleaming under the torchlight.
The two old allies rounded the corridor's turn, Goyle struggling to match his companion's brisk strides, before they reached the heavy oak doors that sent a pang of apprehension coursing through Goyle. He cleared his throat, straightening himself up to his fullest height, knowing that the man beside him did not share in this anxiety as he raised a pale hand to rap on polished oak.
No noise from within the chambers reached them as they waited before the door was wrenched open before them and they were met by the familiar sallow face who gazed up at them coolly before barking over his shoulder, 'Malfoy and Goyle have arrived, my Lord.'
'Ah, at last,' came the deep, cool voice from within the depths of the hall. 'Step aside, Nott. Come in, my friends, drink.'
Nott obeyed the order and Malfoy strode forward. Goyle hurried in after him, Nott locking the door behind them.
The room was occupied by the usual black-cloaked figures, some of them wearing skull-like masks, others with their faces exposed. Each of them were seated around the mahogany table nursing goblets of mead. He took his seat at the end of the table, farthest of the lot of them from his master. He reached for the decanter in the centre of the table and poured himself a generous goblet of mead, drinking deeply.
'My Lord,' came Malfoy's drawling voice, as he himself took his seat beside their master, 'you must excuse our lateness. Goyle fancied himself some small talk on the way to join you.'
The rage surfaced within him and he opened his mouth to protest before he heard his master give a low chuckle that soon spread around the table.
'Now, Malfoy, lateness is of no matter when Goyle has taken such a risk for me as he did tonight,' their master told him calmly. 'What news do you bring, Goyle?'
Under his master's unwavering gaze Goyle felt a pang of anxiety in his chest but he forced himself to meet his master's gaze. 'The Aurors arrived before we could even enter the grounds, my Lord.'
The silence amongst them was thick enough to cut. While Goyle could feel his fellows' eyes upon him, he did not break his master's gaze. A long time seemed to pass before the man gave a slow nod and said in his ever-calm voice, 'Thank you for this information, Goyle.'
'The protective charms around the school are far greater than we anticipated, my Lord,' insisted Goyle, struggling to keep the urgency from his voice. 'There was nothing we could have done …'
The words died on his tongue as his master raised a pale hand, signalling for silence. 'I understand, Goyle. It is of no matter.'
'N-no matter?' repeated Goyle in bewilderment, gazing at his master in disbelief. 'But, my Lord…'
'Hogwarts will come into our grasp in time,' his master assured them calmly. 'What is important is that the Aurors were preoccupied.'
Each other occupants of the table shared Goyle's look of astonishment. Only Malfoy seemed unsurprised; he weas wearing the same look of contemplative satisfaction as their master.
'You weren't recognised, were you, Goyle?' inquired his master.
'N-no, my Lord.'
'Very good.'
Goyle's mind ticked over, fighting to understand, before he spluttered out, 'My Lord, if … if I may ask …'
'Ask away, Goyle. I would not deny you answers after the risk you took tonight.'
'Thank you, my Lord,' stammered Goyle. 'Only I don't understand. Urquhart and Flint have been captured … The Aurors know their history. They will have no trouble getting the Wizengamot's approval for administering Veritaserum. If they were to name any of us …'
To Goyle's surprise he saw his master give a wry smile before he emitted a soft, slow sigh. 'It is regrettable, yes. But you can rest easy: I'm afraid Urquhart and Flint will have no opportunity to name us. The Wizengamot will not convene until the morning and the hemlock essence you consumed before embarking this evening will take its effect long before then.'
A chill crept sprung within his chest and his head spun with panic. He made to stand. 'Hemlock?'
'Goyle, Goyle, calm yourself,' said his master, raising a steadying hand. 'You have nothing to fear. Drink up your mead. It has the antidote. How cruel do you believe me to be?'
His heart pulsing in his chest, he lowered himself back into his chair. He snatched up his goblet with a shaking hand, draining it of mead. From across the table he heard Malfoy emit a murmur that sounded suspiciously close to laughter.
'You must forgive my deception, Goyle,' his master told him as he drank. 'I'll have you know I do not have a habit of poisoning my allies when I offer them a drink, but I had to face the truth of the matter. It was likely not all of you would return to me this evening. Tell me, Goyle: did you see Harry Potter this evening?'
The name spurred a chorus of hissed jeers from around the table, but Goyle could not bring himself to contribute. He set his goblet down and poured himself another helping of mead, his chest still pounding. 'Yes. It was him who got Urquhart.'
Another round of jeers sounded around the table, but they died away when their master raised a hand once more to call for silence. 'That is good. We need to Auror Office preoccupied as long as possible. You have bought us at least until the morning. I believe a toast is in order.'
Goyle watched as his master's pale fingers closer around his own goblet and raised it into the air and around the table the men followed suit. 'To Gregory Goyle – a brave man. And. of course, Marcus Flint and Eustace Urquhart, who served the Dark Arts justly and faithfully. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten.'
There was a rustling of cloaks as goblets were raised to lips. Their master waited for his servants to place their goblets back on the table before he spoke again. 'And now, Malfoy, please do tell. Were your efforts tonight successful?'
Malfoy met his master's unwavering gaze and, in a voice that he seemed to intend only to reach their master, 'Yes, it was.'
The dim torchlight flickered across their master's face as he gazed back at Malfoy. Several seconds that felt like an eternity passed before the man's lips twisted into a smile. 'Well done, my friend.'
'Thank you, my Lord.'
Their master turned back to the table to address the group at large and when he spoke again his voice seemed to prickle with excitement. 'Tonight, we have taken perhaps our greatest leap forward yet. My friends, drink with me. Gustav Gamp is dead.'
The cheers that erupted around the table were almost deafening. Goblets were thrust into the air, grunts of glee and jest were shouted amongst the men, and, to Goyle's disgust, Malfoy nodded serenely at the praise thrown his way.
'Our next move in crucial,' their master informed them over the subsiding babble. He turned to the dark man sitting to his left and said coolly, 'And now you must be ready.'
'Of course, my Lord,' the man assured him gleefully from across the table. 'I promise you, the moment the Minister is within my reach …'
'I'm afraid that won't be necessary.'
The man's grin faltered in an instant. 'My Lord?'
'We each have imperative roles to play and we cannot risk you gaining too much attention too soon.'
The man now looked close to mutinous. 'But, my Lord, I know I can get to him …'
'Calm yourself, my friend. I have access to Kingsley Shacklebolt and I will use it when I need to.'
'And what about Hogwarts?' asked Goyle before he could stop himself.
At this, his master's eyes flickered to him. Goyle forced himself to stare back. Finally, his master gave a low sigh. 'Goyle, you must forgive me, but if I had wanted Hogwarts penetrated this evening it would have been. It is my belief that we do not currently need the school.'
'May I make a suggestion, my Lord?' began Malfoy.
'Of course, Malfoy.'
'You are aware that many amongst us have children returning to the school tomorrow,' began Malfoy. 'Should it be suggested to them that you require assistance …'
'That is a fine offer, Malfoy,' said his master. 'And I am sure your sons and daughter will make valuable servants to the Dark Lord, but I must ask you to forget Hogwarts for the time.'
Malfoy gave a curt nod, his grey eyes fixed upon his master, before he spoke again, now with a definite tone of urgency in his voice. 'My Lord, excuse my curiosity, but I am wondering ...'
'Wonder away, my friend. I believe you have earned it.'
Malfoy gave twisted smile. 'I cannot help but wondering what are we to do about Harry Potter?'
Heads whipped towards their master to gauge his reaction, but the man's face was as unreadable as ever before he gave a dry smile. 'Ah, Malfoy, will your vendetta against that man ever end?'
Goyle gave a snort of laughter, but his master's gaze did not shift from Malfoy, who was no longer smiling.
'Do not concern yourself with Potter, Malfoy,' their master informed him. 'There is much to come in the next few months, and I do not want you thinking of that man. He is getting old – he is tired. He is not of our concern for this moment. There are far greater things in our futures. But you have my assurance, Malfoy, as I believe you have deserve it: Harry Potter will die, and your master will rise once more.'
Her hair was a problem. It had always been, so she wasn't really sure what she was trying to achieve by attempting to flatten it this morning.
Still, not one to admit defeat, she made a valiant attempt at trying to make it sit evenly before she decided it was a losing battle. She instead opted to clip the most troublesome pieces back from her face with a few claw clips before she then turned to putting on her makeup.
She was interrupted, however, by her mum's frantic calls up the stairs.
'Rosie, are you ready?'
She clicked her tongue, irritated, as she tried to focus on her eyeliner.
'Rose! You need to eat something before we leave.'
She swore and threw down her stick of eyeliner in defeat. 'I'm coming! God.'
Leaving her mirror, she crossed to the trunk at the end of her bed to store away the book she was reading and toss her last few necessities in. Her mother had unsuccessfully tried to rouse her into finishing packing last night and she now had to make a few hurried choices to decide what earrings, books and sweaters she was going to take back to school.
'Rose, seriously!' her mother's voice echoed from downstairs. 'I'm getting really tired of yelling!'
'Then stop yelling then!' Rose bellowed back.
Scowling, she gave her bedroom one last appraising look. Her eyes came to rest on her bedside table where a red badge was resting. It had been sitting there since she had first received it, glinting beneath the sun. She crossed over and picked it up, inspecting the words inscribed on it: Prefect.
God, how she wished she hadn't gotten it.
Slipping it into the pocket of her cardigan, she glanced up at the window over her bed. The rooftops of London rolled out before her, their shingles glinting in the morning sun. She always felt a strange tug of disappointment whenever she had to return to school, even though she had spent most of the summer wanting to be back.
Dragging her trunk down three flights of stairs was a difficult feat and she had another yelled exchange with her mother on her way down until her father finally appeared to levitate her trunk down the stairs.
'Better hurry, Rosie,' he said to her in an undertone. 'Don't want to make us late, do you?'
'I'd rather die, Dad.'
In the kitchen, she found her mother standing at the kitchen bench poring over a newspaper while her brother sat at the kitchen table, picking at a plate of scrambled eggs. When he heard Rose enter, he looked up to give her a smug grin. 'Aw, Rosie overslept.'
Rose rolled her eyes. 'I've got about fifty more books to pack than you do, you know?'
Hugo rolled his eyes. 'Gosh, I didn't know we were dealing with a Rosie mood.'
'Hugo, can you hurry up and eat. We have to leave soon,' said their mother by way of intervention. 'Rosie, have some toast.'
'It's okay. I'll just have tea.'
'I'm putting toast on for you, Rose, and you're going to eat it.'
It was Rose's turn to roll her eyes, but she didn't protest as her mother went to put on some more toast. Rose took the opportunity to lean over the kitchen table, inspecting the article her mother had been reading.
HOGWARTS DEFENCES TESTED BY ATTEMPTED BREACH
She only made it through the headline before Hermione turned around and snatched the paper off of her. Hermione seemed determined not to meet her eye as she rolled it up.
Rose raised her eyebrows, leaning against the kitchen bench. 'I wouldn't bother hiding it from me. I am capable of getting my hands on a newspaper, you know?'
'I'm not hiding anything from you, Rosie. I would just prefer it if you hurry up and eat breakfast. We're running late.'
Rose cocked her head. 'Okay, read it to me then while I eat. Who broke into the school?'
This news was interesting enough for even a twelve-year-old to take note of world events. Hugo spun around in his seat, looking eager. 'The school got broken into? Cool. What did they take?'
'Nobody broke into the school. Somebody tried but the defences are impenetrable.' Hermione aimed her wand at the grill where Rose's bread was beginning to burn and levitated the slices onto a plate, which she pushed into Rose's hand. 'Eat quickly, please, Rosie.'
Rose set down the plate and folded her arms, eyeing her mother. 'Is that why you're in such a hurry?'
'No, Rose, I'm in a hurry because we need to be at the station in half an hour. Just eat the bloody toast, will you?'
Rolling her eyes, Rose turned around and snatched up a butter knife. She could feel her mother scrutinising her, as if she was a much younger child who needed supervision while buttering toast.
'Rosie, where's your badge?'
She took a careful bite of toast to bide herself some time before answering, while Hermione watched her with narrowed eyes.
'Rose?'
'It's in my pocket.'
'Well, can you put it on, please? The letter said you should wear it on the train in case any of the younger students need to ask you something.'
'Then they can ask me. I am capable of articulating words without the badge on, you know?'
Across the room, Hugo gave a snort of laughter, and Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. 'If you've finished eating, Hugo, can you go get your shoes on?'
With a groan, Hugo pushed his chair back unceremoniously and got to his feet. 'I see when I'm not wanted.'
Once he was out of the room, Hermione turned back to her daughter. Rose could sense that there was more to this conversation to come.
'Look, Rosie,' said Hermione slowly, 'I can tell you weren't thrilled at becoming prefect …'
'What? No. I'm thrilled to give up my evenings to patrol the corridors catching first-years out of bed.'
Hermione ignored her. 'But you've got it now, so you need to take the responsibility seriously. It's an important job. You've been selected because you're trustworthy …'
'Not trustworthy enough to read the morning news though, right?' asked Rose snidely, gesturing towards the rolled-up newspaper in her mother's hand. 'I need to be sheltered from that, do I?'
Hermione pursed her lips. 'Rose, please. I'm trying to have a conversation with you …'
'Yeah, about a bloody badge, Mum. It's really not that important.'
'It is important, Rose. You're a perfect …'
Rose was spared by what was doubtlessly a lengthy monologue by a rap at the door. Her father was leaning into the doorway, holding Hugo's trunk.
'Sorry to interrupt,' he said, though Rose sensed that he wasn't at all, 'but we should get going if you're done eating, love.'
Hermione eyed Rose's unfinished plate of toast. 'Come on, Rose, hurry up.'
'Forget it. I'm done.' As if in protest, Rose crossed to the bin and tossed away her mostly-untouched slices of bread and gave the plate a wash, before turning back to her parents. 'Let's go.'
No matter which way you looked at it, Malfoy Manor was a startlingly pretty place. In the mornings, he could see the sun rose over the crest of the grassy hills and shadows the hedge rows slanted against the neatly clipped glass and flowers of the crisp, white rose bushes splayed open. It was like a scene from a painting, pristine and uniform.
God, how he hated being here.
It was for this reason that he was ready to leave for King's Cross far earlier than he needed to. Once showered and dressed, he made his way down the long passageways and lengthy staircases to manor's first floor. He could hear movement in the kitchen and, not feeling in the mood for conversation, left his trunk in the atrium to go outside. The air was cool and crisp and he took a seat on the steps that led down into the expansive garden.
Scorpius had endured two months being stuck here; he only had to make it another hour.
'Shouldn't you be getting ready?'
He glanced over his shoulder to see that his father was standing in the double doors of the manor. 'I already am.'
His father nodded considerately, as if this information was a lot denser than it was. His eyes flickered out over the garden, frowning. 'Have you been in to say goodbye to your mother yet?'
'Isn't she coming to the station with us?'
His father shifted his jaw, eyeing him, before he said slowly, 'No, she could do with some rest. And I can't be there either, I'm afraid – I have some work to get done. I'll have one of the house-elves take you.'
Hearing that his father had "work" to do was always cause for irritation, seeming his father didn't have a job and hadn't had a job for as long as Scorpius had been alive. His father had enough money in Gringotts to last them both a lifetime, and instead of eating into it, the funds grew healthily from the money they earned through their expansive properties.
No, Draco Malfoy's work usually meant one thing: he had to meet with various politicians or entrepreneurs and offer them investments or donations. This was how the Malfoy family had always remained in good stead with the Ministry.
Scorpius wasn't surprised by any of this: his father often invented reasons not to come to King's Cross where he would be scrutinised by other wizarding families. What was unusual, however, was that his mother wouldn't be coming either.
At Scorpius's silence, Draco continued talking. 'If you're ready, you should go in and say goodbye to her.'
This wasn't a very appealing prospect. 'Is she up to it? I mean, if she's not well enough to come to London …'
'Of course, she's up to it, Scorpius,' said his father briskly. 'She could just do without apparating there. Go on – go upstairs. I'll go find the elves.'
Scorpius didn't really have another excuse for this, so he went back inside and made the long ascent up to his parents' bedroom. Approaching the room always brought a small, guilty sense of dread. He didn't really like talking to his mother these days, and he knew that made him horrible.
When he made it to the door, he gave a knock and the croaky voice of their head house-elf answered. 'Come in.'
He opened the door to see Dinny busily arranging pillows around his mother's head. A plate of toast and tea had been brought up and was sitting untouched on the bedside table. His mother apparently hadn't gotten out of bed yet, but at least she was sitting up: this was a stark improvement from a few weeks ago. Her face was pallid and her eyes looked a little glassy, but she managed to smile as he came inside.
'Darling,' she said, reaching for his hand. 'Look at you. You have your badge on.'
Dinny, who had now moved on to straightening the blankets at his mother's feet, glanced around. 'Just like your father, Master Scorpius.'
He had reluctantly pinned the blue badge to the front of his shirt and now regretted it. Not sure how to respond to this, he gestured at the untouched plate of toast. 'You haven't had breakfast, Mum.'
Astoria attempted to wave this observation away, but she seemed to struggle to get her hand off the bed. 'Oh, I'm not hungry. I'll have a pick at it later. Tell me, are you thrilled to be going back to school?'
He was, but probably not for the right reasons. 'Yeah, kind of.'
His mother gave a pinched smile. Seeing this, he realised now how thin she was looking. Her usual rosy cheeks were colourless and gaunt. 'Will you be meeting Zaina on the train?'
'Yeah, I think so.'
'I do hope we can see her over Christmas, Scorpius.'
'Yeah, you will. She's just been away.' This was a lie, but his mother didn't need to know this. 'How are you feeling today?'
'Oh, fine, fine. Just a little drowsy. The healing draughts do that, you know? I'm sorry I can't make it London, darling – but I do feel I'm on the mend.'
Scorpius gave a short nod. He really hated being in this room, and he hated himself for hating it. 'Yeah, of course. Well, I should probably finish packing.'
Astoria gave a faint nod. He felt her fingers give his hand a weak squeeze. 'Of course, dear, of course. I don't want to waste your time.'
'You're not wasting my time, Mum. I just need to get ready.'
'Yes, darling, yes. I do hope you have a wonderful year.' She squeezed his hand again because this seemed to be all she could manage. 'And I'll be at the station to meet you when you're home for Christmas, alright?'
He nodded, unconvinced. 'Yeah, sure.'
Hecate House was silent as he passed beneath the stained-glass windows towards the bathroom, his siblings still dozing; however, once he was showered and dressed, the building was rife with the usual mess of sounds that emerged each year on September first.
Footsteps stormed up and down corridor of the house's upper level and voices rang from outside the bathroom door. He lingered beneath the mirror, spending more time that he typically would trying to flatten his mess or ebony hair.
'Mum, I can't find my cardigan!'
'Which cardigan, Lily? You have thousands.'
'The green one!'
'Which green one?' his mother asked over the thundering footsteps of his brother storming up the passageway to meet them.
'The green one! With the cable knit …'
'Oi, Ginny, where's the broom polish?'
'What?'
'The broom polish.'
'Oh, for God's sake, James, it's where it always is. In the shed on the shelf above the dragon manure.'
'Yes, mother, I looked there. I do live in this house too, you know.'
'Mum!'
'Lily, stop yelling! It will be around here somewhere – and James, don't just stand there staring at me. If it's not in the shed, then I have no idea where it is.'
His brother gave a dramatic groan and his stomping footsteps began again, drowning out the sound of his sister's and mother's bickering, and an instant later the bathroom door was wrenched open.
'Al, where's the – are you doing your hair?'
Under the scrutiny of his brother's delighted brown eyes, Albus whipped his hand away from his unruly fringe. 'No.'
'Don't worry, you look very pretty. Where's the broom polish?'
'How should I know?'
'Because you had it last.'
'No, I didn't.'
'Yes, you did. I saw your dismal attempt of trying to fly Dad's broom the other day. Slipped right off into the mud, didn't you?'
'I did not!'
'Yes, you did. Finlay and I were watching from the window. It was bloody hilarious. So, where's the broom polish?'
'I told you – I don't know.'
James gave a heaving sigh of annoyance. 'Fine, but if I can't find it, you're buying a new bottle.' And he turned on his heel before Albus could conjure a retort and strode back down the passageway to hurry down the stairs. A moment later Albus heard the back door slam shut as James headed out into the yard to scout for the broom polish.
Scowling through his blushing cheeks, Albus gave himself one final forlorn look in the bathroom mirror, before he himself left the bathroom and trudged down the passageway to the staircase. His mother and his sister's bickering was growing more heated as he headed into the kitchen.
He found the hunched figure of his father sitting at the kitchen table, adorned in the heavy cloak he donned on raids and nursing a steaming cup of tea in his pale hands. His father turned tired eyes towards him at the sound of footsteps and croaked out a dreary, 'Morning, Al.'
'Morning,' Albus replied as he crossed to the pantry. 'When did you get home?'
'While you were in the shower.'
'Want some porridge?' asked Albus as he poured himself a bowl.
His father declined with a wave of his hand and a peaky smile. He sipped his tea in silence while Albus got his breakfast ready and took a seat across from his father.
The sound of the house's upper had now reached the level of yelling, and to cover the sound Albus asked his father, 'Where were you last night?'
'Just surveillance. Nothing important,' his father told him, as was his response whenever any of his children inquired about his work. 'You all packed?'
'I think so.'
'Looking forward to getting back?'
Albus shrugged. 'I suppose.'
'You suppose?'
Albus gave another shrug. 'James says fifth year is really hard.'
'You'll manage, Al. Don't listen to James.'
Albus nodded and gazed down at the soggy mess of oats. He no longer felt hungry in the slightest.
Before his father could make any more inquiries, the sound of thundering footsteps started down the staircase before Lily burst into the kitchen, followed closely by their scowling mother.
'For Merlin's sake, Lily, would you calm down?' Ginny snapped at the redhead.
'Hello, darling,' Harry said to his daughter.
Lily crossed to the stove top to set the kettle to boil without a glance towards the kitchen table. She then rounded on her mother. 'I can't leave without that cardigan! I'm going to have to change my entire outfit now!'
'Then go change if it matters so much to you.' Ginny glanced across to her husband and asked briskly, 'When did you get back?'
'Just now. How are you?'
'Have you eaten?'
'No, I'm fine.'
Ginny let out a huff of frustration and jabbed out her wand in the direction of the kitchen cabinet, from which a bowl flew and landed nearly on the table before Harry and was then filled to the brim with oats by the levitating carton.
'Really, I'm not hungry –'
'You've been out all night. Eat,' Ginny instructed of him. 'And Lily, if you think you're leaving this house with nothing but tea for breakfast …'
'Fine, I'll stay here then!' barked Lily. 'That was my favourite cardigan, Mum!'
'Could you stop yelling at me, please? I don't know why I'm to blame for your cardigan disappearing.'
'Because you had it last! I put it in the laundry and now it's gone!'
'Well, perhaps if you did your own washing for once you'd know where it was.'
Lily gaped at her mother, mortified, before she flew to the door of the passageway, only to collide with James who had returned from the garden looking sullen.
'Oi, watch it …'
'Move, James!' Lily snarled at him, and she pushed past her eldest brother and disappeared up the passageway, leaving the sound of stomping footsteps in her wake.
James glanced back at the remaining occupants of the kitchen. 'What's up with her?'
Ginny rolled her eyes and turned to the stove pot to tend to the kettle that Lily had abandoned. 'Your sister has lost her cardigan,' Ginny informed James curtly, and received a bellowed, 'I didn't lose it, you did!' from down the passageway.
'God, my heart bleeds for her,' sighed James, crossing to the table to join his brother and father. 'Well, Al, the broom polish has vanished so that will be three galleons please.'
'That's not fair!' snapped Albus.
'Why is Albus reimbursing you for the broom polish?' asked Ginny shrewdly.
'Because in his state of heartbreak he's misplaced it and is too depressed to remember where it is.'
'No, I didn't!'
'For God's sake, James, why would Albus know where the broom polish is?' sighed Ginny. 'He doesn't even fly.'
'I do sometimes,' grumbled Albus.
'You do not. You slip off as soon as you're airborne,' James dismissed, slicing off two pieces of bread from the loaf with a couple of flicks of his wand.
'You're such a prat, James.'
'And you're a virgin and three galleons in debt, Ducky.'
'There's a new bottle of polish in the study,' intervened their father quickly before a red-faced Albus could snap back.
James looked up, his wand poised over his plate as he toasted his bread. 'Really?'
Harry nodded. 'Take it if you like.'
James gave a dramatic roll of his eyes and got to his feet. 'Well, now you tell me.'
James pushed his chair back and disappeared up the passageway. Ginny sat down at the at the table, a cup of tea in hand, scowling at the half-toasted bread on James's deserted plate. 'Why does nobody eat in this family?'
'You know how he gets when he's going back to school,' Harry reminded her gently.
'He's seventeen years old. He could at least put his own dishes in the sink.'
As if in response, Albus got to his feet and collected his half-eaten bowl of oats and James' plate from the table, crossing to the kitchen bin and scraping away the remains.
'Thank you, Ducky,' sighed Ginny, as Albus set about washing the dishes.
Wincing at the pet name his mother refused to let die, he assured her it was nothing and continued with the dishes.
'You look awful,' his mother informed his father.
'Thank you.'
'I thought you said you'd be back by midnight.'
'Supposedly I was going to be but those idiots from the ...' Harry caught himself, pausing for what Albus knew was a moment to design a censored account of the evening for his son's ears. 'There was a mix-up in the office ...'
Albus set the dishes on the drying rack and departed from the kitchen to allow his parents to talk freely, having no desire to listen to his father's abridged version of events, and went outside to the makeshift owlery to coax his owl into her cage.
Throughout the car ride to London in which Lily threw out accusations concerning the whereabouts of her cardigan that went largely ignored and James and their parents once again started up their heated discussion as to how exactly finishing his NEWTs served in James' best interest, Albus tried his best to keep his attention focused on the bristling green countryside that rolled by the window. His mind was full of his looming Ordinary Wizarding Levels and the prospect of implementing the plan he had devised the previous evening. Although he attempted heartily to rally himself into excitement, he arrived at King's Cross station feeling nothing but anxious.
'I told Posie I'd be wearing my new black dress,' moaned Lily, who had changed outfits several times before leaving Godric's Hollow in the hopes of compensating for the loss of her cardigan.
'I'm sure Posie won't even notice,' her father assured her, as he pulled the car into a vacant spot outside the station's facade. This reassurance was apparently ill received by Lily, who refused to speak to her father as they unloaded and transferred their school trunks to trolleys.
Struggling with the weight of his own trunk, Albus was forced to accept his mother's help, ignoring James' sniggers. His father had told him many times that he had been shorter and scrawnier even than Albus in his youth, but had shot up in his later years of school. Albus hoped to God that this would be yet another genetic trait he had inherited from the man.
'And you wonder why your girlfriend dumped you,' James chortled as they strode through the station, manoeuvring their trolleys around the hoards of Muggles.
Albus did not reply, for he was preoccupied with pushing the heavy trolley, until he asked in an undertone, 'Can't you do mine too?'
'If you're okay with having my blood on your hands.' James nodded ahead at their mother, who was too busy bickering with Lily to see her eldest son propelling his trolley forward not by hand but by the wand concealed up his sleeve.
'She's not even looking!' snapped back Albus.
'Don't cry, Ducky. You'll be seventeen one day.'
'You never do anything for me! You promised that when you turned seventeen, you'd transfigure my bed, and you still haven't done it!'
'Why do you want me to transfigure your bed? It's not like you need it to fit two people.'
Albus opened his mouth to retort, but was cut short by their father's warning voice from behind them. 'James.'
The brothers glanced over their shoulder at their father who was pushing Lily's trolley and watching his eldest son with a sharp look, his eyes cast on James' jacket sleeve. James gave a dramatic roll of his eyes and lifted the charm, grudgingly taking hold of the trolley.
They reached platform and, taking her trolley from her father, Lily hurried forward towards the space the separated platforms nine and ten.
'Lily, you have to check if anyone's watching!' Ginny hissed at the girl.
'I did!'
'You did not. I've told you a hundred times …'
But her words went unheard, for Lily had disappeared through the bricks that concealed platform nine and three quarters. Scowling at the space from which her daughter had just vanished, Ginny moved forward and she too dissolved into the bricks.
James strode forward to follow, but his father caught him by the shoulder. 'Wait a minute, James.'
'Oh, God, here we go,' sighed James.
'Yes, we do.' Harry lowered his voice to avoid being heard by any nearby Muggles. 'You're if age now, and with that comes a certain level of responsibility.'
'Yes, Harry, I'm aware.'
'Upholding the statute of secrecy is nothing to be scoffed at ...'
Albus was no longer listening, and with a great shove he pushed his trolley forward, taking a run at the brick wall and wincing as he always did as he collided with the would-be brick wall and finally emerged onto the concealed platform.
He spotted his mother a short distance away, talking to his aunt, uncle and cousins. Relieved, he hurried over.
'Morning, Al,' greeted his uncle, clapping him on the back. 'Where've James and Harry got to?'
'Oh, I think they're coming in a minute,' he said, avoiding his mother's shrewd gaze, knowing that his father had no intention of telling his wife about James' misdemeanour. He turned to Rose. 'Hi.'
'Hi,' she replied. 'Why are you wearing that?'
He glanced down at the old Quidditch jumper and his cheeks reddened slightly. 'Oh, I just found it in the cupboard while I was packing.'
'You found a Chudley Canons jumper in the cupboard? Albus, you hate Quidditch.'
'Leave him alone, Rosie, the man's come to his senses,' said Ron, beaming at his nephew before giving him another clap on the back. 'Good choice, Al. What brought you around?'
Albus was spared from answering by the arrival of Harry and James, the latter looking sullen, and was silent as they exchanged greetings with Ron, Hermione and their children.
'Harry, you look exhausted! You weren't there last night, were you?' asked Hermione, after giving him a hug.
Harry gave her a quick nod before he turned down to Hugo.
'Hugo, what's going on? You've grown three foot since last week.'
'I know, he better stop soon or he'll be taller than me,' sighed Ron, throwing an arm around his son.
'You excited?' Harry asked his nephew.
Hugo nodded eagerly. 'Yeah, course. What where you doing last night, Harry?'
'Oh, Hugo, don't start,' sighed Hermione, and she brushed a stray curl from her son's eyes.
'Mum, don't, people are looking ...'
Albus was familiar with the stares his father, uncle and aunt attracted whenever they ventured out into wizarding spaces together, but this made him no more comfortable with the pointing fingers and hushed whispers directed their way.
'Where's Lily gotten to?' asked Harry.
'She went off to find Posie and Zelda,' said Ginny with a rather strained voice. 'She said to say goodbye to you though.'
'Oh, right,' said Harry lightly, though Albus did not miss the disappointment in his eyes.
'Not to break your hearts but I might follow her lead,' said James.
'James ...' started Ginny tiredly, but James stooped to kiss her cheek and she decided against arguing. 'Bye, darling. Be good, won't you?'
'You say that as if I'm a delinquent, Mother.'
'We wouldn't have you any other way,' said Ron.
James then turned to his father. 'Don't miss me too much, will you?'
'I'll try not to.' There was a brief moment of hesitation before Harry and James put their arms around each other, sharing a quick hug, before they let go of each other. 'Tell me who you end up with on the team.'
James gave a grimace. 'I wouldn't get your hopes up. Better be prepared to help Al with his trunk, Rosie.'
Rose rolled her eyes. 'Go away, James.'
'As you wish.' He gave his family one final goodbye and flicked his wand at the trolley, free to do so out of sight of Muggles, and disappeared through the crowds of parents and students in search of his friends.
'Well, I suppose you three better get on board,' Ginny told them. 'You have everything, Ducky?'
'Yes, Mum.'
'Good boy.' She stopped to hug him goodbye, looking slightly forlorn. 'I'll miss you heaps.'
'Miss you too,' he muttered, feeling very aware of a nearby group of boys from his year level. He broke free of her grip and turned to his father.
'Bye, Dad.'
'See you, Al.' His father gave him a hug which was, to Albus' relief, brief, and he pulled away to see Hermione clutching Hugo tightly against her torso.
'Bye, Rosie,' said Ron, giving his daughter a fierce hug. 'If Smith gives you any more trouble let me know and I'll deal with him.'
'God, Dad, all he did was tell me I couldn't sit next to Chandra in his class anymore.'
'So? You're my daughter! You can do what you like …'
'Can we get on already?' urged Hugo, casting a longing look at the scarlet steam engine. 'I told Danny I'd go find him once I got here.'
'Alright, let's get moving,' said Harry, and he and Ron grabbed hold of Albus and Hugo's trolleys respectfully and started towards the train. Ginny and Hugo followed them onwards, Hugo almost skipping with excitement.
Albus waited with Rose as she hugged her mother goodbye. 'Bye, darling,' said Hermione, looking slightly tearful. 'Watch out for your brother, won't you?'
Rose gave a nod.
'And don't let him to anything silly,' added Hermione in an undertone.
'I'm not a babysitter, Mum.'
'I'm aware, Rose, but I hoped you could your dad and I a favour.'
'Yes, yes. I promise I won't let him fall off the astronomy tower.'
'That's not funny,' Hermione told her tersely, frowning down at the redhead.
Looking as if she wanted to say more, Hermione helped Rose push her trolley to the train where Harry and Ron had already loaded on the other trunks and soon added Rose's.
'Well, have a great time,' Harry said to the three of them. 'Hope the workload's not too bad, you two.'
Waving to their parents, Rose and Albus climbed onto the train and joined Hugo at the window. The whistle blew and with their parents waving at them and Hugo looking delighted, the train began to roll slowly forward.
'Take care, you lot!' Ron called to them, as he and the other parents strolled along the side of the train.
Harry raised a hand in farewell, quickening his pace to keep in stride with the train. 'Good luck –'
His called farewell fell short by the arrival of a tawny owl that had swooped down through the steam of the train upon him, landing heavily on his shoulder and brandishing a letter in his face.
'Bye, Hugo!' Hermione called, almost at a run now, trying to keep sight of her children before they fell out of sight. 'Rose, you should …'
Rose never found out what she should do as, like her uncle, her mother was soon interrupted by another envelope-clutching tawny owl that swooped upon them, causing Hermione to give a little squeal.
'Oi, watch it!' Ron grumblde at the Owls, which had been joined by two more carrying azure envelopes, as the train picked up speed.
'Bye, Mum! Bye, Dad!' Hugo called, but his voice was whipped away from the wind.
Only Ginny continued to wave as they sped off. Hugo, waving fervently, missed what Rose and Albus saw; Harry and Hermione tearing open the letters, Ron trying to wave away the persistent owls that continued to swoop down at them, and Harry and Hermione, ashen-faced, exchanging looks of horror with, before the train rounded the bend and their parents fell from view.
All around them students straightened up from the windows, excited conversation breaking out, as they began to flock away down the corridor to find compartments. Rose and Albus turned to face each other, Albus with his pale face twisted with worry and Rose wearing a thoughtful frown.
'There must have been about ten owls there by the time we turned the corner,' said Rose slowly.
'What do you think that was about?' asked Albus wearily. 'I thought the blue envelopes ...'
'It means they're urgent, yes,' said Rose. 'Did you read the Prophet this morning?'
'No, why?'
'Apparently there was an attempted break-in at the school last night.'
Albus goggled at her. 'What? But that sounds really bad. Who was it? Did they catch them?'
'I don't know – Mum wouldn't let me read the article, as if I can't just read it myself at school.' Rose paused to roll her eyes, as if wanting to make it absolutely clear to Albus that she disapproved of this. 'Obviously, it can't be too serious or I doubt they'd be letting us come back.'
'You two worry too much,' sighed Hugo, hoisting his trunk into his arms. 'Anyway, I'm going to go find Danny. See you at the school.'
Albus glanced over at him. 'Hugo, you should probably stay with us ... The letters...'
'Oh, Al, what could those letters possibly have to do with who Hugo sits with on the train?' snapped Rose. 'Come on, let's go find somewhere to sit.'
'Can you open the bloody window? I'm suffocating.'
The source of the suffocation smiled, raised his eyebrows and dragged on his cigarette. 'You don't complain when you're stealing my tobacco.'
'That's only when I'm drunk. You can't hold me accountable when I'm drunk. Just open it, would you?'
When James have no sign of moving, Finlay Jordan got to his feet and crossed to the window. He was impeded slightly by James's legs, which he had stretched out and propped up across the opposite row of seats. Finlay nudged them with his knees to force James to move, which he did, and the dread-locked boy wrenched the window open.
James took another lazy drag of his cigarette. 'Fin, I'm going to catch a chill.'
'Put a jumper on then, you brat. Anyway, go on – what happened when you got there?'
James gave a broad grin. Building suspense, he tossed the end of his cigarette out the window and went to roll another.
'Don't be dramatic, James. Just tell me, would you?'
'Alright, alright,' sighed James. 'So, when I got to Nocturn Alley, Mundungus was waiting …'
Finlay made a noise of disapproval. 'You met in Nocturn Alley? Jesus, James. It's like he's trying to be as dodgy as he can be.'
'Don't think he needs to try very hard.'
'Well, don't tell me I didn't warn you when you get arrested.'
James lit his freshly rolled cigarette and took a hungry drag. 'Come now, Fin, I won't get arrested. My daddy is a big, important Auror, remember?'
'Daddy can't get you off criminal charges just because he runs the Auror Office.'
'Oh, now who's being dramatic?'
'But it's not dramatic, is it? What you're doing's illegal. You do get that, right?'
'Oh, God, Fin. I's just a bit of fun, you know? You could come with me – make a bit of money.'
Finlay have a huff of laughter. 'No, thank you.'
'Oh, come on. You'd enjoy it. When I got there last night, there was at least twenty of us and …'
But he stopped talking because the door of their carriage was wrenched open and three newcomers stood in the doorway.
'God, it stinks in here,' grumbled Xan, dropping into a seat beside Finlay. 'The prefects are supposed to start patrolling the corridors soon, you know? I'd clear this smoke away before they get here.'
'Good thing my darling cousin Roxanne Weasley got made prefect and she would never, ever tell on me, would she?'
'Don't call me that,' grumbled Xan. 'And suit yourself – but Lucy will murder you if she catches you.'
'Yes, James, I'm disappointed in you,' said Louis, as he snatched up James's pouch of tobacco and began to roll himself a cigarette.
'Did you two come find me just to tell me that?' asked James. 'And don't insult me and then take my cigarettes, Lou.'
'No, we came to talk to you about try-outs,' said Kim Nguyen, who had remained standing and was leaning against the door. 'Emory Vane told me that he'd be keen to try out for Beater.'
Louis gave a groan as he lit his cigarette. 'Vane's a prat.'
'He's a good Beater, though,' insisted Kim. 'I play with him on the weekends sometimes.'
James waved his cigarette dismissively. 'Beater's sorted – Fin wants to take it on. He's a better Beater than a Chaser, aren't you, Fin? Look at those big, beautiful arms. So, what we need now is a new Chaser and a Seeker.'
Xan, Kim and Louis exchanged glances.
'Why a new Seeker?' asked Xan shrewdly. 'What's happened to Corrina?'
'She quit.'
Xan gaped at him. 'Are you serious? God, I'm going to kill her. I saw her last week and she didn't tell me that.'
Louis raised his eyebrows at James. 'Yes, when did Corrina tell you this, Captain? This morning, or …?'
'Perhaps,' said James idly. 'Or perhaps I spent a bit of time with her over the summer.'
Xan rolled her eyes. 'God, James. She has a boyfriend, you know?'
Louis gave a snigger. 'You slag, James.'
James put his hand over his heart in mock indignation. 'How dare you? Can't I simply check in with my team mates over the summer break?'
Finlay groaned. 'This is what happens when you sleep with girls, James. They don't like you much afterwards. Can't possibly imagine why. But this time it's cost us a perfectly good Seeker.'
'Fin, that's rude. It's got nothing to do with me. She says she wants to focus on her NEWTs. I'd forgotten why I didn't like her.
'Ewan's a good flyer,' offered Louis. 'He didn't try out last year because of OWLs.'
'No way,' James told him flatly.
'And why not?'
'Because last time you dropped a guy you ended up duelling in the change rooms and I'd prefer not to have my robes set on fire again.'
'Oh, that won't happen this time,' Louis assured him lazily. 'Rory was very temperamental. Ewan's nothing like that.'
'I don't care. You're way overdue to dump him as it is. How long have you been together now – three weeks?'
Louis grinned from behind his cigarette, accompanied by a crude hand gesture.
James grinned at him. 'I'd watch it unless you want to start buying your own tobacco, mate.'
'Okay, can we just all agree that you're both slags?' intervened Finlay. 'When are we going to hold try-outs?'
'What will try-outs do?' grumbled James. 'We saw what was on offer last year and they were all abysmal. We need to just pick someone and start training them immediately.'
'That's your plan?' scoffed Xan. 'God knows how you got captain.'
'God knows how you got prefect but miracles do happen,' he told her. 'I'll hold try-outs if it will keep you lot happy, but I don't want to sit through the usual trash that come every year. I want at least some idea who we're going to get so we can keep it short. Lou, ask the guys in your dorm.'
'And I'll ask the girls in mine,' said Xan. 'There must be one you haven't trodden on yet, right?'
'Possibly,' James mused. 'I remember some altercation in a dark room with Anadia Indra back in fifth year, but I think the amount of fire whiskey consumed nullifies it.'
Xan got up to leave, but not before aiming a kick at James.
They continued up the corridor, hauling along their trunks and Albus's owl cage, searching for an empty compartment. The corridors were busy as students flocked to and fro, looking for friends and ducking into different compartments to greet their house-mates after the summer.
'Oh, is that them?'
'Yeah, that's them. Hugo Granger's sister.'
With her head held high, Rose pulled her trunk past the third-year girls gawking at her and Albus. She usually became desensitised to the attention she and her cousins got while at school, but on the first day back it was always an unwelcome surprise.
'Everywhere's full,' Rose grumbled to Albus, gesturing down the carriage. 'We might have to share …'
But her words were drowned out by a deafening scream that set Albus's owl screeching. Rose dropped her trunk as she was thrown into the window of the carriage and inundated by a head of long, black hair.
'Rosie, I missed you!'
'Chandra, calm down, you nearly killed Al,' Rose huffed, half laughing, as she tried to disentangle herself from the girl's crushing hug.
Chandra let go of Rose to put her arms around Albus. 'Oh, Al, I'm sorry! Are you okay? How was your summer? Gosh, I have so much to tell you both.'
Chandra drew in a preparatory breath as the three of them continued up the train's corridor.
'Did you know that Elena Fortescue and Kienan Cornfoot broke up? She told me earlier on the platform. And, according to Sally Wood, Mei Zhao got twelve OWLs! Can you believe that? And … oh, gosh, it's true! Look!'
Chandra grabbed Rose's hand to pull her to a stop and, with her other hand, pointed the length of the train carriage. Two Ravenclaws were standing at the door of a carriage, in the process of untying their owls' cages from the top of their trunks.
Scorpius Malfoy looked like he usually did, wearing an expensive-looking sweater and trousers and new shoes that, from a distance, looked suspiciously similar to dragon hide. His pointed face looking taut and cool. His silvery blonde hair hanging to his shoulders in a way that was a bit too well-styled to be effortless.
None of this was unusual, but what was unusual was that Zaina Faheem was standing beside him, leaning into him, brushing his hair back from his face as he attempted to get his owl's cage off of his trunk. Zaina Faheem had a teasing look on her face that she pulled off very well (although most things could be pulled off well by somebody as pretty as Zaina Faheem). Scorpius swatted her hand away, as if he was annoyed, but Rose could see him smiling.
'You know, Sally told me she saw them in Diagon Alley together shopping for books last week, but I didn't know if they were official,' said Chandra breathlessly. 'Gosh, he's gotten taller, don't you think?'
Rose didn't really have an opinion on whether Scorpius Malfoy had gotten taller: it was an unspoken rule amongst her cousins that they all kept their distance from Malfoy. This was a rule that the Ravenclaw seemed more than happy to accommodate; Rose couldn't remember ever having a conversation with him in their last four years of school.
'Can you two not stare at him?' Albus muttered. 'He's going to see – oh, brilliant, he just saw.'
Malfoy's pale eyes had flittered towards them and the smile he was wearing immediately set into a scowl. Rose was familiar with such a scowl: this was how Malfoy usually looked whenever he made eye contact with her or Albus.
Albus leant behind Rose as if to obscure himself. 'Now he knows we're talking about him.'
'Well, he's probably thrilled that we are. He can't get enough of himself,' muttered Rose. 'Look – there's a free compartment. Let's get inside.'
Rose slid into the compartment and the three of them hauled their trunks in, along with Albus's owl cage and Chandra's cat carrier. Rose, being the tallest, stowed their trunks in the overhead compartments while Chandra let her cat out to prowl around the compartment.
'I'm so glad to be going back to school,' Chandra informed them. 'Lydia has been absolutely unbearable all summer preparing for her NEWTs and now that Lavender's got that job at Gringotts she just thinks she's so brilliant. God, Rosie, you are so lucky you're the oldest.' She gave a wistful sigh and then turned to Albus and asked. 'I heard James got made Quidditch captain, Al. That's great!'
James's name had its usual effect on Albus. He scowled and said, 'Who told you that?'
'Lydia.'
Albus folded his arms and slumped back in his seat. 'I don't know why Neville made him captain, honestly. He's acts like such an idiot when it comes to Quidditch.'
Chandra looked uncertain. 'Oh, but … but he's a very good Chaser, don't you think?'
Rose fixed her with a knowing look and shook her head dismally. 'Honestly, Chandra, you could have any boy in school and you want James?'
'Oh, Rosie, not every boy!' dismissed Chandra. 'There's that boy on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team who never looks me in the eye, and Scorpius Malfoy is always so rude when we have to work together in Potions. Isn't he, Al?'
Albus gave a shrug as he poked his owl treats into his owl's cage. 'I don't know. Malfoy's rude to everybody.'
Chandra chewed her lip in thought. 'Yes, he is a bit quiet, isn't he? But he can't be too bad – he did get made prefect. Did you see his badge out in the corridor? I'm not sure who got it for Slytherin, but I bumped into Cassandra Kettleburn the other day in Diagon Alley and she said Donny got it for Hufflepuff …'
Albus jerked his head towards Chandra. 'You saw Cassie?'
'Oh, I forgot, you'd know that!' Chandra trilled at Albus. 'That's so nice that you two both got made prefect!'
'No, I … I didn't get it.'
Chandra blinked at him. 'What?'
'I didn't get it. I think Hamish Coote might have.'
'Oh …' murmured Chandra. 'Oh, Al, I'm sorry, I didn't … That doesn't make any sense! Do you think there was some mistake? I mean, Hamish is sweet and all but … but he's a bit silly, you know? It would just make so much more sense if you and Cassie were both prefects. You guys could be able to patrol together –'
'We broke up.'
Rose decided this was her queue to take her book out of her bag and flick to her dog-eared page. She had no interest in hearing Albus recount his break-up with Cassandra Kettleburn for the fourth time.
Chandra, however, looked horrified. 'Oh, Al, I'm sorry. What happened? It's so hard to keep it going with someone over the summer. Donny and I couldn't make it would, you know? But maybe now you're at school and you have more time together, you can sort it out? You and Cassie were so cute together.
Albus gave a rather unconvincing shrug. 'I don't know. She's a bit boring to be honest.'
This statement, said with as little care as Albus could possibly manage, was enough to catch Rose's attention. She looked up from her book to raise her eyebrows at Albus. 'Excuse you?'
Albus avoided her eyes and gave a shrug. 'Oh, you know, she doesn't have much to say.'
'Albus, after she dumped you, you didn't leave your room for a week,' Rose snapped. 'You were utterly obsessed with her. What are you on about?'
Albus gave another shrug. 'I don't know … I can do better.'
'Oh, of course you can. When was the last time you even spoke to a girl that wasn't a blood-relative?'
'Well, I'm talking to Chandra, aren't I?'
'Chandra doesn't count. She only talks to you because she's too nice to ignore you.'
'That's not true!' protested Chandra urgently. 'Al, I love talking to you!'
'Don't be nice to him, Chandra,' warned Rose. 'He's being a prat. What do you mean Cassie is boring?'
Albus was saved from giving an explanation, however, by a sharp rap on their compartment's door. They turned to see Connor Davies leaning into the compartment, smiling at them – or, more accurately, smiling at Chandra.
'Hi, Chandra. How are you?'
'Hi, Connor! I like your sweater! I'm good, how are you?'
'Can't complain. Hey, Weasley. Hey, Potter.'
'Hey,' they chorused back.
Connor's eyes flickered back to Chandra, and when he spoke again it was clear his words were only meant for her. 'So, the guys and I are having a drink down the carriage. Kienan got some firewhisky aboard. Want to come join?'
'Oh, yes, please!' Chandra glanced back at Rose and Albus. 'I'll see you guys later, okay? You can put Sage back in his cage if he starts bothering Rhea.'
Chandra crossed to the door and Connor stepped aside to let her throw, slinging his arm around her as they left. With Chandra gone, Sage indeed jumped up onto the seat beside Rhea's cage and began poking his paw through at the tawny owl.
'You didn't tell me Connor and Chandra are together.'
At Albus's question, Rose looked back at Albus with her eyebrows raised. 'They're not together. They've just been seeing each other over the summer. It's not like it's exclusive or anything.'
Albus goggled at her. 'They're sleeping together?'
'Yeah.'
'Are you sure?'
'Yes, Albus.'
'But … but … why?'
Rose placed her book face down on the table with a sigh. 'Oh, Al. You can't truly be that clueless.'
Albus rolled his eyes. 'I don't mean why why, Rose. I mean, why Connor? He's such a prat.'
Rose cocked her head. 'Why do you care so much?'
'I don't care,' Albus assured her quickly. 'I just meant … I don't know. I don't want him to hurt Chandra.'
'He's not going to hurt Chandra, Al. You know she's got about three guys going at once? She's not an infant.'
'Well, I'm sorry I'm looking out for your friend! Personally, I don't know why you don't care.'
'Al, why would I care? It's just sex, okay? It's not a big deal once you've actually done it.'
Rose regretted this immediately because Albus narrowed his eyes at her. Trying to look distracted, she poked her finger at Sage to force him away from the owl cage. 'Al, keep that damn cat away from Rhea. She looks annoyed.'
Rose's attempt to distract him had apparently fallen short, because Albus asked her briskly, 'How would you know if it's a big deal or not?'
'Everyone knows that except you, Al. Can we stop talking about this? I'm trying to read.'
'Jesus, Rosie, are you blushing? Have you met somebody?'
Snatching up her book, Rose attempted to look serene, which she was sure she would have pulled off better if her face wasn't feeling as hot as it was. 'Shut up, Al.'
'What the hell, Rose? Since when?'
'Is it any of your business?'
'You could have told me! We're supposed to be best mates!'
'I didn't want to burden you. Obviously it's a sensitive topic and I couldn't add another monumental tragedy to your life.'
'I'm not going to drop it just because you're rude to me. Go on, tell me then. With who?'
'It's none of your business.'
'Fine. I'll ask Chandra then.'
Rose gave a heavy sigh and snapped her book shut impatiently. 'With that Muggle boy who lives down the road.'
Albus raised his eyebrows. 'The tall one? With the blond hair?'
'Yeah.'
'Since when were you seeing him?'
'I'm not seeing him,' said Rose. 'Well, not anymore. I suppose I was for a little while. I saw him at the supermarket – the Muggle shops at the beginning of the summer and he asked how my exams went and then we just got talking and he asked if I wanted to get a coffee. We just kind of hung out for a few weeks and then his parents were going down to Dorset for a few days so I told Mum and Dad I was going to Chandra's for the night. It wasn't a big deal.'
Albus gazed at her and shook his head slowly, as if in awe. 'Who even are you?'
'Oh, Al, it's really not a big deal, okay? Once you've done it …'
'Oh, shut up, Rosie.'
'But it's true. If you had just done it with Cassie, I'm sure you wouldn't care anymore. Of course, I didn't realise you found Cassie so boring.'
At this, Albus's cheeks reddened slightly. He looked out the window, avoiding Rose's eyes. 'I didn't mean that.'
'I should hope not. Why'd you say it? Did you think it would impress Chandra?'
Albus grimaced. 'No, Rose. I just … I'm sick of people feeling sorry for me.'
'Al, nobody feels sorry for you. You worry too much. Nobody even thinks about you.'
'But that's my point,' sighed Albus. 'I'm sick of it. I've been thinking about this all summer and I'm over it. This year's going to be different. I'm going to …'
Rose sighed. 'Going to what?'
'I don't know. I'll join the Quidditch team.'
'Quidditch?' scoffed Rose. 'You've never played Quidditch in your life.'
'That's not true! I've been practising all summer. I'm not that bad anymore.'
'Is that why you're wearing that stupid jumper?'
'It's not a stupid jumper! I like it.'
'You do not. You look hideous. You look like a tangerine.'
'I do not! You only hate them because you like annoying your dad.'
Rose gave a great huff of frustration and got to her feet, hoisting her satchel over her shoulder and stuffing her book back inside it. 'I'm going to have to ask for a brief intermission. This conversation is giving me a headache.'
'Oh, don't be like that, Rosie …'
'I'm not being like anything. I have to go to the prefects' cabin. I'll be back later, okay? I might see Cassie there – hope she doesn't bore me to death.'
And with that she turned on her heel and strode from the compartment, sliding the door shut behind her.
'I can't believe Connor's interested in somebody as dim as Chandra Thomas.'
Scorpius enjoyed Zaina's ruthlessness: it always gave them something to talk about. Zaina had a lot of opinions about a lot of people, just like he did, and he enjoyed exchanging these opinions.
'I'm pretty sure it's not her intellect that he's interested in,' he replied.
Zaina laughed. 'No, I suppose not. She's the thickest person in the year. Well, I guess she'd have to be to want to be friends with Potter and Weasley.'
Another thing that Scorpius liked about Zaina was her apparent dislike of Albus Potter and Rose Weasley. While the majority of the Potter-Weasley brood were loud, over-confident and well-liked, the two fifth years had different reputations. Albus Potter was known to be quiet, shy and awkward, while Rose Weasley was known to be coarse, standoffish and condescending. Scorpius had initially suspected that they were only this way around him, but after four years of school he had come to learn that that was just them.
This wasn't why Scorpius disliked them, however; he disliked them because he always had the strange sense that they were talking about him. As if they knew something about him or his family that he didn't even know himself (which was entirely possible considering the role their parents had played in the war).
He wasn't going to say this to Zaina, however; he liked Zaina to think that he was just as self-assured as she was. Instead, he said, 'I suppose Thomas has to be friends with them. Her parents were in the Order, weren't they?'
Zaina pursed her lips and tossed her raven-black curls over her shoulder. 'That must be it. Weasley's such a know-it-all. I can't imagine she actually likes somebody like Thomas. And I'm sure Connor's only seeing her because she's so easy. I just wish he wouldn't bring her along to hang out with us. Just because he's shagging with her doesn't mean I should have to be friends with her.'
'Well, perhaps after the meeting we can find another compartment.' As much as Scorpius liked Zaina, he didn't particularly like her friends, but he wasn't prepared to tell her this. 'We have things to catch up on.'
Zaina looked at him side on. Her plump lips twisted into a smile. 'And what things are those, Scorp?'
'You'll have to wait and see. They're confidential.'
Zaina pulled him to a halt, clutching his hand in hers. She blinked her heavy-lashed eyes up at him. That was another thing he liked about her: she really was startlingly pretty.
'Naughty, Scorpius.' She raised a hand to thumb the blue badge pinned to his chest. 'And from our prefect, none the less? I thought you were supposed to be respectful.'
He let go of her hand to put his hand on her waist, feeling the curve of her hips beneath his hands. 'I am. But there's a time and a place to bea bit disrespectful, you know?'
She gave one her chiming laughs, linking her hands behind his neck. 'Oh, I know. Do you have anything in mind?'
Smiling, he inclined his head to her neck and she gave another giggle. He pressed his lips into her supple skin, feeling her sigh into him, before she suddenly straightened up. He let go of her, glancing around for the source of her alarm: another student had appeared at the end of the train carriage.
Rose Weasley was looking at them both with the same scrutinising glare he often saw her look at him with. Her large brown eyes fixed on him, her lips pinched together. Like him, she hadn't yet changed into her school robes, and was instead wearing a dress and cardigan. Her reddish-brown red hair was pulled back from her face by a few hairclips that looked distinctly Muggle. He had noticed this about Weasley: she dressed much more like a Muggle than the other kids at school from Wizarding families. He had decided he didn't like this about her. It was as if she was trying to prove a point.
'Looking for something, Weasley?' asked Zaina sweetly.
Weasley chewed her lip. 'The same thing as you two, I suppose. The prefect's carriage.'
Zaina raised her eyebrows in apparent disbelief. 'Oh, you got made prefect? I didn't see your badge. Congratulations.'
'You too,' said Weasley, though she didn't look remotely pleased by this news. She came towards them, still with her arms folded. 'I think it's the next carriage, so I might go on in. Don't mind me.'
She slipped past them in the corridor, her copper-coloured curls bouncing around her shoulders, and he made the mistake of meeting her eyes.
He was reminded of how he had caught her and Albus Potter staring at him in the corridor earlier. What had they been saying about him? Had they seen him on the platform being dropped off by his house-elf rather than his parents? Were the going to report back to their parents on how the Malfoys still managed to hold onto not just one but four house-elves, even despite the many laws regulating their employment introduced by Hermione Granger?
Rose Weasley disappeared through the doors into the next carriage, leaving him and Zaina alone again. Rolling her eyes, Zaina turned back to look at him. She looked unhappy.
'Why on earth would they make her prefect? She's so rude to everyone.'
Scorpius shrugged. 'I suppose her Head of House was in the Order, wasn't he? Probably doing her parents a favour.'
Zaina pursed her lips. 'That must be it. Anyway, let's go. I don't want her to tell the heads of school that you and I were late.'
'Well, she's late herself, you know? We've got time.'
At this, Zaina began to smile again and once again took hold of his hand. 'No need to rush, darling. We've got all year to be disrespectful. Come on, let's go.'
Song credit: Stuck on a Puzzle by Alex Turner.
Song credit: Stuck On a Puzzle by Alex Turner.
A/N: If you've gotten this far I think I should thank you for reading - thank you, thank you, thank you! This chapter is stupidly, stupidly long and I only managed to put in about half of what I was planning to include.
It's been a long time since I wrote HP fanfiction and even longer since I began planning this fic but only recently did I attempt to start writing it. If you could please, please, please review and let me know what you liked, hated or just any thoughts you have I will adore you forever. If anyone at all wants to know all the madness that's going to transgress then please let me know.
Full disclosure: this isn't in keep with the Cursed Child as I've had this planned for so long and the first chapter was written several months ago. Initially I was going to wait until the script was published and edit this fic to have it fit TCC canon but after having read the script I quickly abandoned that idea. However, weirdly enough there are a few similarities with the TCC that will become obvious in time (don't worry, I promise there won't be any Blood Balls).
I don't think I need to point out that there wasn't any Rose/Scorpius in this chapter, but there's a whole lot to set up and I've got to do this properly. I promise he will be around shortly (and in case anyone is concerned, not every chapter will be so Albus-centric).
Once again, thank you so, so, so much for reading and any review will be utterly adored! Xxxxxxxxx
