Chapter 8
Albus rocked back and forth on his feet as he waited outside of the Gryffindor common room, watching the small groups of students stream past him. He had a vague idea that something was going on this night, since it was close to curfew and there was no sign of students slowing down for rest. He caught small snatches of conversation as they set off down the corridor and realized there must be a party of some sort planned tonight. It was rather intimidating.
Finally, James Potter emerged from the portrait hole, flanked by Arturo and Daffyd. The three boys were laughing raucously, and James looked to be in his element. His hair, though messy, had been combed in a way that made it looked purposeful, the deep copper colour catching in the candlelight of the dim hallway. Albus was once again reminded of how cool his brother was – a fourth year on his way to a party that was attended by students even older, just coming off of detentions for his first prank of the year (where they had somehow charmed every sink in the toilets to let off an unstoppable stream of violet and pink bubbles – the entire third floor corridor had been filled with foam before the professors had put an end to it), and… a damn good Quidditch player. Albus' stomach churned.
"James" Albus called out, remembering his purpose. The older boy halted and waved lazily at his two friends to go on without him. Albus bit back another bitter feeling of resentment. James Potter wasn't afraid to show up to a party alone. His brother looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "I need to ask a favour" Albus said. James crossed his arms "favours aren't free mate." Albus rolled his eyes "don't act like that with me, there's no one in the halls to watch you." James furrowed his brows, clearly insulted, and Albus backtracked hastily, knowing he needed his brother to be in a good mood. "I covered for you in Diagon Alley" Albus said quickly "distracted dad at Uncle George's while you went off to buy those dung bomb." Albus watched as James half lifted his arms to run his fingers through his hair, as was his custom when he was thinking, before realizing it would ruin the style and letting them drop awkwardly by his side.
"Yeah alright, I guess I owe you one" James said finally. Albus smiled broadly "cheers. I need Goyle's schedule for after curfew rounds." James looked taken aback and laughed loudly. "What could you and your weird little crew possibly be planning!?" "Nothing" Albus replied hastily, "I just want them for…" Albus floundered, trying to come up with a reason on the spot "Rose" he finally blurted out. James looked at him with another raised eyebrow, clearly amused. "She stays too late in the library sometimes…" he tried before snapping "oh, come off it" when he noticed his brother was holding back laughs.
James recovered from his bout of laughter a minute later, wiping a stray tear from his eye as Albus watched, cheeks flaming. "You need to work on your improv" he said. "Are you going to help me or not" retorted Albus, now cross. James thought for a second "normally I would say it's impossible to know for sure…" "You helped me with those suits of armor last year" Albus cut in. James nodded "yeah but that was different, the suits of armor will go where you tell them if you invoke the right spell, we didn't have to move them by hand. That's a well-kept secret by the way, I hope you didn't go blabbing. That Sam has a big mouth."
"Your point?" Albus prompted. "We did almost get caught that night though, don't you remember? We had to hide in that potions pantry for like three hours while Professor Longbottom sniffed around. I still have no idea how he didn't realize the suits of armor were all lined up like that. He must have walked past them at least three times…" Albus couldn't help but smile at the memory of his successful apology to Scorpius. "But as I said" James continued "normally I would say that it's impossible to know for sure. But it just so happens that I've recently come across a new… tool… that might make it possible. I've actually been working on the rounds schedule myself, got something big planned for Christmas… okay, find me at breakfast tomorrow and I'll hand it over."
Albus was about to start cheering silently as he watched James' retreating figure, when the older boy turned back again. "Oh. And congrats." Albus looked at him confusedly. "Heard your friend made the Quidditch team, that's got to be good for your social standing." Albus nodded, suddenly stony-faced. James didn't seem to pick up his sudden shift in mood however, and kept on walking towards his mysterious party, whistling cheerily.
Albus walked broodily back to the Slytherin common room. It was true that Elle had made the Quidditch team, and, to her shock, wasn't even the backup. She was the starter, a fact which Sam kept repeating to everyone within earshot. Elle herself wasn't boasting about it, Albus knew that wasn't her personality, but he could tell how pleased she was by the way she smiled at her porridge whenever a student came up to congratulate her at breakfast. Albus also couldn't deny that he had noticed a marked increase in general interest in Elle and his group of friends. The number of jibes sent his way over being a Potter in Slytherin had decreased, and less people snickered now when Rose put up her hand for the fifth time in a row, nearly standing up in her seat in her effort to be called upon. Even Isidre, who was apparently teased relentlessly when he was alone in his cohort's classes, was walking with a new bounce in his step.
They were the friends of the new Quidditch star, who had made the team in second year, even younger than James Potter. Albus snorted bitterly at that thought, causing a nearby portrait to scold his rudeness. Albus paid them no mind. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself. It was finally becoming undeniable that he would never be a good flyer, let alone a Quidditch player. His mum, his dad, and four or five of his uncles had been excellent players, and his grandfather, the legendary James Potter the first, had been the best of them all. Even Lily, his ten-year-old sister, could fly circles around him now. Albus knew he had no part in that legacy – yet another reason he didn't fit in in his family.
Albus went to bed angrily and silently. Scorpius, who knew him well enough by now to read his moods, let him be. Albus was even angry at how considerate he was.
James Potter had not produced the requested list of Goyle's after-hours rounds the next breakfast. In fact, James Potter had not even shown up to breakfast at all. Everyone was muttering about the huge party bust the professors had made the night before. "At least twenty fifth years have detention for two whole months" one Hufflepuff moaned "we lost our star seeker, and the first match is in three weeks!" "Count our lucky stars that's all we lost" his friend replied "MacMillan told me he only just got away. At least we don't have to replace a captain."
"It was Daffyd who saved my neck" one of the sixth year Ravenclaws said. "He ran in and said the professors were coming, I don't know how he knew. It was like he had some sort of sixth sense, I swear. I'm glad I listened though, the ones who ignored him, they're all in detention this morning." "I was running for my life" a pretty fourth year Gryffindor said to a crowd of listeners, clearly enjoying the attention. Elle recognized her as Imogen Davies, Gryffindor's newest Quidditch recruit. Elle had been instructed by Isla to 'know her competition'. "I was right behind James Potter, I looked back to make sure Gwen was following me" she motioned to the girl to her right who nodded vigorously, and when I turned back, he was gone. It was like he'd disappeared. I haven't seen him since. Luckily, we made it back without detention. I have a perfect record, you know." Imogen sat back as the younger students bombarded her with questions, smiling proudly.
Albus listened to all the stories around him, unamused. Soon everyone was whispering, wondering where James Potter could have ended up. Albus stabbed a breakfast potato with his fork, a little more viciously than he intended, and Scorpius grabbed the bit that had shot off his plate, raising his eyebrow as he popped it in his mouth. Albus just shrugged.
The older boy only made his appearance at lunch, and there were so many students swarming him, asking him what had happened that Albus couldn't get to him at all. Albus watched as his brother finally got up from his table, trying to disengage from the younger students that were still following him. A suitable distraction arrived in the form of Peeves, who had managed to slip through the dining hall's doors unnoticed and was now in possession of a large bowl of mashed potatoes, wreaking havoc. Albus watched as James took the opportunity to slip away and followed after him angrily.
"James!" he called, when his brother had snuck into a corridor full of classrooms, usually empty on the weekends. The older boy jumped and turned around, visibly relaxing when he saw who was speaking. "Oh! It's only you. What's up?" "The list I asked for?" Albus asked testily. "Right" James said, patting his pockets before producing a folded piece of parchment "here you are mate." Albus snatched the list from his hands. "What's up with you?" James asked Albus, finally picking up on his bad mood.
Albus turned, meaning to leave without a word, but couldn't help himself. "I should be asking you that" he said, "the mystery of where you've been since the party is all everyone's been talking about. Sam tried to convince me you were sent to Azkaban for a week to get 'scared straight', whatever that means." James chuckled "want to know the truth?" James asked, not pausing let Albus reply "I just slept in. I ran back to the dorms just like everyone else, and I was tired this morning so me and my mates slept in and skipped breakfast." James was still shaking his head and chuckling when Albus left the corridor, fuming.
All that story had done was remind Albus just how easy it was for James. He could skip breakfast on a whim and the whole school would notice.
"You going to tell me what's up yet?" Scorpius asked him later that night. Albus just grunted as he lay in bed, trying to proofread his history of magic essay. He heard the soft thump of Scorpius as he joined him, felt his warm breath on his neck as he peeked over his shoulder. "Leave that for tonight. Rose'll fix it tomorrow if you let her practice her disarming on you for half an hour, she said so to Sam before we left the library." Albus sighed, putting down the parchment. He was right, as he usually was.
Albus didn't speak for a long moment, but Scorpius didn't seem to mind. He waited, kicking his feet in the air, inspecting a loose thread on the sleeve of his knit sweater. Finally, Albus gave in to the calm beckoning of the silence Scorpius had created "It's just James. And Elle. And Quidditch, and sleeping in." Scorpius nodded thoughtfully, as Albus had just pronounced a grammatically perfect sentence instead of a jumble of nonsensical words. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't a Potter. I know that makes no sense-" "No, it makes perfect sense" Scorpius said, a rare instance where he interrupted Albus.
Scorpius paused for a second. "I think it's sort of the same way I feel, when sometimes, only sometimes, I'm glad that I'm a Malfoy." Albus was much worse at looking like he understood nonsensical sentences, so Scorpius elaborated. "Most of the time, I hate being a Malfoy, just like everyone expects. Like most of the time, you like being a Potter, just like everyone expects" Scorpius could see Albus was about to protest and held up a pale hand to silence him and Albus nodded begrudgingly, knowing Scorpius spoke true. "But every once in a while, my dad does something good, really good. Or my grandpa shows me a book that an old Malfoy wrote, or a book someone else wrote about an old Malfoy, and I'm proud to be one. It feels… weird… and kind of like, shameful. Like I'm doing something wrong, ignoring the stuff about my family that matters the most – all the bad stuff I mean. But I can't help the way I feel. Is it like that for you?"
Albus lay on the bed next to Scorpius, Albus on his back and Scorpius on his stomach, his feet still kicking idly in the air. "Sort of. I know I should be focusing on all the good stuff. I think I know that my parents don't hate me. They might even be proud of me, I don't know. But you're right. Sometimes I can't help the way I feel. And you're right about how it feels to think like that." The two boys lay there for a second longer in silence, before Albus produced the parchment containing Goyle's schedule from his pocket. "James even put directions in for a good hiding spot near his door. You still in to keep a watch on him?" Scorpius nodded, and the two boys grinned in excitement.
P.S. sorry that I've been MIA yet again. I got sick with the little bug that's going around, if you catch my drift… I'm feeling a lot better so more regular uploads should be coming up.