Chapter 31

Albus stood alone in the astronomy tower, watching the crowds of students, tiny as ants, filing into the Quidditch stadium. It was a fine June morning, the last Saturday before everyone would be going home for the summer holidays. A slight breeze wound its way lazily through the stonework where Albus leant, puffing the hair up on his fringe and cooling the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead after the trek up the stairs.

It had been almost two months since Elle and Isidre had come back to Hogwarts. The only thing more fantastical than the rumours that followed them, many of them centering around Isidre's new hypertrophic scar, was the truth of where they had been and what they had seen. Before Albus had even been able to process it fully, exams had been upon them and there hadn't been time to think about anything except school – Albus thought he must have kept reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood in his sleep, and his wrist had gotten so sore from practicing the finer details of transfiguration spells that he'd had to go see healer Henwick. (Even with all that practice, his pair of mittens had stubbornly retained the original colour of the oranges he had started with).

The second years had all finished their final exam last night, astronomy, and now Albus could finally breathe. He'd woken up late this morning, fully intending on heading down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the early afternoon game. But somehow, he'd ended up making his way back up the astronomy tower, where he'd been only a few hours previously.

Albus remembered only bits and pieces of the last exam – it had been so late, and he had been so panicked (he completely blanked on the names of Jupiter's moons until the last five minutes, and even then, his brain had somehow come up with 'Ian' instead of 'Io'). "Ian" he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he walked past the telescope where the event had occurred.

Albus remembered having to look pointedly to his left to avoid glancing at Rose's parchments when they were being collected. It already stressed him out enough to share a telescope with her, since she could not stop muttering under her breath, every few minutes taking in a large gasp of air when she remembered she had to breathe. He didn't need to look at her parchment as well, as full as it was with tiny, neat handwriting. She's had to get a special anti-smudge quill, since she was left-handed, and even then, her palms were always covered in ink by the end of exams.

No, Albus hadn't wanted to see how much information Rose had managed to squeeze onto the exam (and how much information Albus had missed), so he had looked to his left. Elle had been closest to him.

Albus didn't know what to think, about Elle. Ever since she had told the story, the night her and Isidre had returned to school, she only rarely mentioned it. Elle. Elle was a lot of things. She hated to share personal stories, and she didn't always remember to ask you how your day was. She was a rather clumsy friend, to be honest. But she always shared her study notes. She had mastered the art of subtle hexing, and after two years, no one ever tried to stick a foot out or whisper an insult to him, Isidre, or Scorpius, some of the school's favourite targets. Elle didn't always know how to be the best friend. But, after the incident with Isidre, Albus had realized something – Elle cared much more deeply than she was capable of showing.

Scorpius had been impressed when Albus had pointed it out. "You're spending too much time with me" he had laughed. Albus smiled. He walked slowly over to the telescope Scorpius and Elle had shared, remembering the way Scorpius' long, thin fingers had adjusted the lens so delicately. In the moonlight his hair had looked like pure silver – he almost glowed. Albus' mouth curled up in half a smile, his own finger hovering in the air, not looking anywhere near as elegant.

He was interrupted first by the very strong smell of dung, and then by the sound of the tower door opening loudly. He heard Scorpius's voice, shrill with anger, shout a few curse words past his shoulder. Albus almost blushed – he had clearly not been the only one who had picked up some of Elle's vocabulary this school year.

Scorpius's face scanned the tower quickly, landing on Albus. The anger he'd held in his face softened for a second, then hardened again when he saw Albus laughing. "Peeves?" Albus asked joyfully. "Peeves" Scorpius replied, significantly less cheerfully. "We better stay up here to watch the match, I reckon it'll be a while before he gets bored of throwing dung bombs." "He'd never get bored of that" Albus replied, shaking his head seriously "but it will take him a while to run out of his stash."

Scorpius made a move as if he was going to join Albus where he was standing but stopped short when he saw Albus's nose crinkle with the smell. "Stand over there" Albus instructed, pointing to the telescope he had used for his exam, "there's a bit of a breeze." Scorpius nodded sheepishly.

For a while, the two boys were silent, watching the Quidditch match from their respective places. From the looks of the stands, and the occasional eruption of cheers from both the red and the blue side, it was going to be a very close finals match.

"What were you thinking about?" Scorpius asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Albus shrugged "who says I was thinking about anything?" Scorpius smiled "you always come to the astronomy tower when you want to think."

The boys were interrupted by a distant cheer, and the two turned to look at the blue side of the stands jumping up and down. Albus thought for a moment. "I was thinking about you." Albus said, shrugging. "And Elle, and Rose. I hadn't got to Ruth and Sam yet; their telescope was farther off." Somehow, as always, Scorpius managed to follow Albus' disjointed train of thought. "Isidre" he said. Albus nodded.

Elle had made it abundantly clear that Isidre was to be completely trusted. Albus had watched her closely, and her behaviour had definitely reflected that. If anything, Elle was actually closer with Isidre than she had been before. "It just doesn't make sense" Albus said, looking out towards the distant Quidditch pitch. "He betrayed us, her most of all. How could she just forgive him so easily?"

The red side of the stands were cheering now. Scorpius was speaking slowly, his lips over-pronouncing his words. "Albus… I don't want to… I don't want you to think I'm telling you that… that your family is perfect. Because I know that it isn't… but I just… I just think that you might not understand what it's like to have a parent not love you." Albus turned sharply "what are you saying?" There was more indignation in his voice than he wanted there to be.

"I'm trying to say that it doesn't make sense to you, how Elle could forgive Isidre, because you don't know what it's like to have a parent not love you. Elle's mum, she loved her, but she left her. She abandoned her with no answers. Elle knows what it feels like to just desperately want her mum back. If you'd asked her two months ago, she would have said she'd do anything, to get her mum back. For Isidre, it was the same. His father loved him, and then the father he knew was gone. What he did, he did because he wanted his father back."

Another cheer erupted from behind Albus, but he didn't turn to check who had scored. He kept looking directly at Scorpius. "I don't know?" Scorpius crossed his arms. "No Albus, you don't. Even if you think you do." Albus turned back towards the stands, his hands clutching the edge of the stone wall. He felt Scorpius rest a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not saying your dad is perfect. And this doesn't solve any of your problems with him, but he does love you, Al. You have to know that." Silence. But Albus didn't shrug the hand off his shoulder.

"Scorpius?"

"Yeah?"

"You smell like shit."

The two boys tipped their heads back and laughed.

Elle was speeding down the pitch. It was an exceptionally close final game, and she knew from some very faraway part of her mind that the crowd was screaming at her, equal parts cheers and jeers, but in that moment, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except the heavy leather ball tucked under her left arm, and James Potter, who was the only player with the technical skill to keep up a man-to-man defence when Elle dived and rolled in the air. Elle wasn't going to dive this time though – she was going to fake a roll, hopefully convincingly enough to fool Potter, who was a blur of scarlet to her right, and then attempt a kick shot.

She'd started practising kicking the ball into the hoops as a joke, taking a few shots after practice each time. The team teased her that it was her signature trick shot, ever since the disastrous penalty shot at the beginning of the season, and Elle had played along. And then, after Elle had scored three in a row one rainy May evening, it had stopped being a joke. And now it was Elle's best chance at keeping this game alive – They were leading by 140 points, which meant they were vulnerable to a loss if the snitch was caught. The players were starting to get tired – they'd been on the pitch for nearly two hours. But Elle knew her team would revive if she could get them to the magic 150 threshold, where either team could catch the snitch and it wouldn't matter – Ravenclaw would still win.

Elle was fast approaching the hoops – she gritted her teeth and counted herself down, forcing herself not to bail too early and give away the fake roll. "Three" Elle muttered to herself, jerking her shoulder to the right. She sensed, rather than saw, James take the bait, but the keeper guarding the center hoop did not. She jerked harsher to the left, and the keeper followed suit. Perfect, now all she needed to do was aim the kick just right… Her thoughts were interrupted by the loudest cheer the stands had heard all afternoon.

"GRYFFINDOR! THE SNITCH HAS BEEN CAUGHT. GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP" Daffyd's voice boomed out. Elle cursed, rudely. She turned to see James' eyebrows raised, and Elle blushed. She had really not meant for anyone to hear. "Not very sportsman like, is that?" James teased. He accelerated a foot, before rethinking and looping back to her. "Nice move, you had me beat. But you can't show it in your eyes. Keepers have time to read that." Elle shrugged. She didn't feel like trying to explain that she'd had the keeper beat, too. If only she'd had a few more seconds. She couldn't think of a clever retort quick enough, and in another moment, James was zooming off towards his team, which had congregated in the middle field and were already being swarmed by an army of red spectators.

Elle took one last lap of the pitch, knowing this would be her last time on a broom for quite a while. McGonagall had let her know that she would not be returning to the home she'd been at last summer – a place had been found for her in London. Elle was ecstatic, even if it meant no flying. London was home. Isidre would be staying somewhere too, but Elle wasn't allowed to know where, for safety reasons. It must have been somewhere nice though, because Isidre was rather cheery about the whole thing.

The air in the changeroom was gloomy, and Elle got out of there as soon as Isla's end of year speech was over. Isidre was waiting outside. Elle smiled. It still felt weird to call him her brother, though, after their meeting with Mr. Potter, it seemed it might be even more accurate to call him her twin.

It had been a week after they'd returned to Hogwarts, that her and Isidre had received identical letters at breakfast informing them of a meeting later that afternoon in McGonagall's office. It looked like that, for the time being, Harry was keeping to the promise he had made at the ministry – no more secrets. He had told her and Isidre about the curse, or prophecy, or whatever it had been. It had only taken them a few seconds to realize they were born on the same day. "April twelfth" they had said in unison, and both had opened their mouths in surprise.

After they had gotten over their shock, Harry had asked another question. "The prophecy, it may have mentioned an heir. I hate to ask this, but do you know when you were born on April twelfth?" "Oh that's easy" Isidre said, "at –" "STOP" Elle had yelled, making the small boy jump in his seat. Both Harry and Isidre turned to look at her confusedly, and Elle had blushed. "I just… I feel like I shouldn't know when you were born. Because I definitely don't know when I was born, and… I don't know. I just think it would be better that I don't know when you were born, not until I know when I was born." Harry had thought for a second and nodded.

It had been settled. Isidre and Elle were twins, and one of them was older, but they didn't know which. But it might matter, later.

But today it didn't matter. Today it was a fine June day, and Rose and Ruth were waving her over from the spot they'd staked out at the shores of the great lake. Sam was by the shoreline, tugging on a kite he had had managed make from spare parchment (though Elle was sure it wouldn't have worked if it hadn't been for the weightless charm she'd put on it when he hadn't been looking). Isidre was already fumbling in his bag to grab a book to read under the shade of a nearby tree.

Not everything was perfect. In fact, many things were objectively bad. But for today, for the next few hours at least, it didn't matter. The only thing that Elle could never really escape was how much she missed her mother. It was like a hole in chest, but Elle had learned that she could (she had) to breathe around it. So, she took a deep breath and smiled, returning her friends' waves.

P.S. this is the end of year 2! Thank you so much for everyone who's read this far, and thank you for all the comments, they mean so much to me. I'm in the middle of exams, so I apologize for the less frequent posting, but it should calm down in a week or two. I have big plans for year 3 and beyond, so stay tuned