The Cursed Second Child

Chapter 11 - Summer holidays

In a daze, Albus stepped off the train, still feeling a bit lightheaded. He hadn’t really expected Scorpius to hug him like that. He had to force himself to not try to find the blonde boy in the crowd. Letting out a sigh, he reinforced his mental shield. This was not the time to dwell on that. Albus surveyed the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of his mother or any Weasley—after all, his extended family mostly consisted of redheads.

“Albus!” He heard a cheerful voice behind him. Turning around, he couldn’t mask his surprise as Teddy approached, one hand in the air, signaling,

“Over here, mate!” Albus quickly moved toward him, allowing the older boy to bear-hug him. His cheeks flushed a bit at the public display of affection.

“Sorry, Albie! I know you hate hugs in public, but I just couldn’t hold myself! It’s been forever since we saw each other! You’ve really grown, you know!” 

Teddy grinned, patting Albus on the shoulders and then measuring his height.

“Well, not that much lengthwise, but your features, I guess.” He stood there looking perplexed as his hair changed color to purple.

“Ha-ha, funny, Ted,” Albus said, playfully hitting him on the arm, which earned him a playful, “Ouch!”

“Where are the others?” Albus asked, looking around for the rest of the family before returning his gaze to Teddy.

“It’s only me here today,” Teddy said casually, furrowing Albus’s brow and stirring a slight sense of concern beneath his skin.

“Why?” Albus asked.

“Oh! Did your mum not tell you in a letter? Lily had a big drama play today, so I came to pick you and James up instead,” the now green-haired boy replied.

She probably did but Albus must have missed it.

“Where’s your brother? You didn’t ride together?”

Before Albus could answer, Teddy nearly fell into him as another boy hugged him from behind. 

“TEDDY!” James exclaimed with joy.

Teddy, looking a bit startled at first, let a grin creep in as he looked at Albus. “There he is!” He turned to greet James. 

Albus rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop a smile from escaping his lips. He was somehow relieved that his parents weren't here. As Teddy and James began to play-fight, Albus let his gaze roam the crowd, looking for that familiar head of silver-blonde hair, disappointed that he couldn’t find it.

“What are you looking for?” Teddy asked playfully.

“Oh, nothing really,” Albus said.

“Let's go! i know a good muggle street food place nearby, they have the most banging kebabs” 

“What about our trunks?” Albus asked, raising an eyebrow; he didn’t want to haul a big trunk around Muggle London.

Teddy grinned and pulled out his wand. With a flick, both trunks shrank down to the size of a Snitch, making them easy to pocket. “There, problem solved,” he said teasingly as he turned to walk away.

“Wicked!” James exclaimed.

Teddy was right; they really did have some of the most “banging” kebabs. After eating, the three of them strolled around the city center for a bit before deciding to take the tub home. Albus would usually be annoyed by the slower travel option, but today he didn’t mind the extra time it gave them before he had to meet his parents.

Sitting on the tub, Teddy gently nudged Albus with his elbow and leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “Don’t worry too much, Albie. Everything will be alright.”

Albus tensed slightly and glanced at Teddy, who looked sincere. He let out a breath, allowing his shoulders to sag against the seat.

“I sure hope so,” he muttered. Teddy offered him a supportive smile before launching into a story about a new Muggle movie he had seen.

++++

Beginning of June, 2018

Teddy had been somewhat right. When they finally set foot inside 12 Grimmauld Place, the lively atmosphere greeted them immediately. Their parents and Lily were already there. Lily, still in her play outfit, raced around the drawing room, her laughter ringing out as their dad pretended to chase her, his own laughter mingling with hers. Their mother stood to the side, a bright smile on her face as she watched, her eyes sparkling with joy.

As they entered, their mother enveloped all three of them in a warm hug, her embrace lingering as she checked them for injuries—just like she did every time—showering them with kisses. It was a familiar routine that both comforted and annoyed Albus.

Harry soon joined them, pulling both boys into a proud hug, his presence a solid reassurance. Lily, ever the whirlwind of energy, leaped forward, her eyes wide with excitement as she chatted animatedly about her drama play and how it had gone.

Albus felt a mix of relief and suspicion at this warm reception. He glanced at James, who caught his eye at the same moment. A knowing silence passed between them—James hadn’t ratted him out yet, but they needed to talk, and soon.

The first weeks of summer had been enjoyable with Teddy around. Though Teddy was years older, he never treated Albus like a kid. He showed him the ins and outs of Muggle London, introducing him to cool spots and the alternative scene. Teddy had a passion for vinyl records, telling Albus it made him feel closer to his dad, who had also loved Muggle music. Together, they explored unique shops in Diagon Alley—some offbeat stores that were nothing like the usual Wizarding fare. They visited Muggle amusement parks and even took trips outside London to the beach, creating memories Albus cherished.

But like all good things, their time together was coming to an end. Teddy was starting his Auror training and would no longer have the freedom to hang out. Albus felt a pang of disappointment, acutely aware of the reasons behind Teddy’s company. He knew that His parents likely had told Teddy to hang out with Albus, because he didn’t have many Muggle friends like James and Lily did. Yet, Albus didn’t care; he enjoyed spending time with Teddy. He felt a sense of maturity around him, appreciating how Teddy never treated him like a child.

++++

Late June, 2018

As dinner came to an end, Albus climbed the familiar staircase, each step echoing with the fading laughter and chatter of his family. The warmth of their gathering felt like a distant memory as he entered his room, closing the door softly behind him, creating a barrier between him and the chaos below. Just as silence enveloped him, a knock interrupted.

“Come in,” he called, forcing a friendly tone despite the turmoil swirling inside. He clung tightly to his grudges; forgiving Rose felt impossible right now, her betrayal echoing in his mind like a haunting melody he couldn’t shake.

James entered hesitantly, his usual casual demeanor replaced by an unusual seriousness. A fire burned in his eyes, making Albus swallow hard. His brother could be stubborn—an all-too-familiar trait in their family—and just as fierce as a lion.

“Finally done running away?” James asked, irritation creeping into his voice. Albus bristled at the accusation, sinking onto his bed, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air like a looming storm cloud.

“Not while you’re trying to play peacemaker with me and Rose,” he shot back defensively, crossing his arms.

James sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead as if trying to massage away the tension. “Stop it, Al. I won’t be fooled. You know you can’t keep this up with Rose!”

“Me? Keeping it up? Rose is the one in the wrong!” Albus matched his brother’s rising tone, anger flaring inside him like a fire igniting.

“She knows, Al! She’s trying to fix things, but you—” James stumbled over his words, emotion choking him. “You haven’t even given her a chance!”

“I—” Albus began, but the words caught in his throat. He needed James on his side. “I don’t know how to face her, James. You know what she did really hurt.”

James’s expression softened as he moved closer, sitting down on the edge of Albus's bed. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and Albus felt a shift in the room’s energy, the air thick with unspoken feelings.

“I know,” James said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “Trust me, I’ve shouted at her about it many times. But Al, you can't let this tear the family apart. You and Rose—you’re not just cousins; you were best friends!”

“Exactly! That’s why what she did stings even more! You should understand that!” Albus shot back, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“You're always so defensive, Al! Why can’t you just admit to some fault?” James’s tone was firm but laced with concern.

“Why are you taking her side, James?” Albus snapped, the sharpness of his words hanging heavily between them.

James exhaled loudly, his frustration palpable as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “I’m just trying to fix this family, Al! Someone has to at least try. I—I don’t understand why you can’t just listen to her, hear her out—”

James leaned forward, urgency in his eyes. “I don’t want to see you two hurt each other anymore. Families fight, but they also forgive.”

A swell of emotions surged within Albus—anger, sadness, and a flicker of betrayal. He looked away, unable to meet his brother’s gaze, the weight of his resentment pressing heavily on his chest. Deep down, he knew James was right.

The silence stretched uncomfortably, reminiscent of their father’s often poignant pauses when they had done something wrong, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in. Albus hated how much James reminded him of their father at that moment.

“You're going to talk to Rose, Al,” James said softly, his voice firm yet comforting, a grounding presence in the storm. “You’re going to listen to her, and afterward, we’ll figure something out. We can’t let this drag on. We’re heading to the Burrow in two days, and Rose will be there. You two will talk.”

With that, James stood up, leaving Albus alone with his thoughts. In the quiet of his room, Albus threw his head into his pillow, feeling the weight of resentment rise like a tide. Yet, as he began to stroke the pendant Scorpius had given him, a flicker of determination sparked within. He could do this. He needed to. For Scorpius, for their friendship.

++++

Like always, the day for a heart-to-heart with Rose had come far too quickly. He was grateful that their parents didn’t seem to know about the rift between the cousins—small mercies, he supposed.

The Burrow looked the same as ever: tall, homey, with a warm light magic seeping through the walls. Before, Albus hadn’t given the magic much thought, but now it felt uncomfortable, unnerving—foreign. He’d never felt like this here before. As he passed through the Burrow's magical barrier, he had to hold back a flinch and stifle a grimace. The light magic —it just felt wrong and oppressive.

Their other extended family were already outside, and usually, James would have been straight off to the Quidditch field. But not today. James was determined to see this Albus-Rose reunion through. Albus just hoped Rose wouldn’t make too much of a fuss. He was ready to play along, offer some fake apologies, talk about how rough school had been—blah, blah. Hopefully, that would be enough to satisfy them. He had no intention of actually making up with Rose, but he knew he needed James on his side. For future plans.

It was a warm June day, and the house was empty—everyone was outside in the garden, enjoying tea and sweets while watching the broom-happy family members play Quidditch.

The brothers stepped into the room—the same one he, James, and Teddy had shared last holiday which was Uncle Percy’s old room. Rose was already inside, waiting. Albus' heart sank when he saw the look on his cousin's face. James clearly hadn’t told him the full story. Albus shot a betrayed glance at his brother, who seemed a bit nervous. James quietly shut the door behind them, and cast a simple anti-eavesdropping charm.

Rose sat with her usual grace, which radiated an air of importance and confidence that made Albus feel like a mere pleb beside her. She was seated on one of the beds, one leg elegantly crossed over the other, leaned back on her arms, looking calm and casual, she was anything else, which could be seen from her gaze—that burned with a fierce determination, as if she were ready to battle a dragon. 

"Albus," Rose sneered, "Seems you've finally found some courage to actually talk this out?"

Albus winced, turning away. He wasn’t going to have this conversation, not like this. But James stopped him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, giving him a sharp warning look. "Albus," he whispered into his ear.

Sighing in frustration, Albus turned back around to face Rose, he gracefully dragged a chair out, and sat down across from her. 

"Really, Rose? You’re going to act all high and mighty?" His tone was biting. "I thought you wanted us to fix things." he leaned back into his chair, with arms crossed. He wanted this to be over before it had already begun. 

Rose let out a huff of disbelief. "Yeah, well, I’m aware you’re keen to keep this rift between us—" Her voice trembled, sadness creeping in. "which hurts , you know."

Albus scoffed in disbelief. "That hurts ? How do you think I felt after your little spectacle ?" His voice rose, cracking with anger. leaning forward in his chair

Rose’s brow furrowed. "Oh, come off it, Albus! You can’t still be bothered by that! You can be such a whiny baby sometimes!" she bit out, her voice surged with frustration.

Albus was ready to fire back, but before he could, Rose continued, her words spilling out with raw emotion.

"How do you think I felt ? I tried to defend you , you know, to my friends–I told them you were just in a bad mood , that it was my fault! " Her voice wavered. "But then you kept avoiding me! Looking at me like I was an ant you wanted to step on!"

"And then," she continued, almost shouting now, "you started hanging out with that Malfoy kid!" She spit out,her voice breaking as she fought to keep control. " And —and then I heard someone say they saw you leaving his compartment on the train! You lied about going to the lavatory! You lied to me!"

Her voice cracked completely as tears welled up. " You know what his family did to my mum! How could you ever even speak kindly to him? She still has that scar, you know," she choked, overwhelmed. "She still has that scar that says 'Mudblood' It’ll never disappear!"

Rose let out a cry, her voice quivering with the weight of it all.

Albus froze, the weight of Rose’s words sinking in like a heavy stone in his chest. He hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way, hadn’t expected her to hit him with that . The scar. His throat tightened as he tried to form a response. Rose was going to play dirty, and now she had gained the upper hand. 

Albus swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet her eyes. his frustration rising again. “Scorpius is not his family” he said sternly, with an iciness creeping into his voice, why couldn't anyone see that? “I thought better of you Rose, I didn't think you were one to just pull everyone over the edge just because of a name” if she wanted to play dirty, he would go even lower, “Just like all those blood purists who draw all muggleborns over the edge.”

Rose’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly as if she couldn’t believe what Albus had just said. Albus held her gaze, refusing to back down now that he’d decided to push back.

"How dare you," she whispered, her voice shaking with anger. "How dare you compare me to them ." Her face flushed, the fierce confidence from earlier now replaced by something darker—hurt, and a deep, simmering rage. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand what you're saying? "

Albus clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep his composure. He knew the comparison was a low blow, but part of him didn’t care. Part of him wanted her to feel the sting of it, wanted her to understand how it felt to be judged for something beyond your control.

"I hear myself just fine ," he replied, his voice cool and detached, masking the storm brewing inside him. "You’re doing the same thing they did— judging someone by their name, by their family. You don’t even know Scorpius, Rose. You haven’t given him a chance."

Rose blinked back angry tears, her voice rising. "You don’t get it, Albus! This isn’t just about a name. This is about what his family stands for—what they did to my mum ! How could you expect me to just forget that?"

"I’m not asking you to forget," Albus shot back, his voice sharper now. "But I’m asking you to be better than them. To see past it. You’re Rose Granger-Weasley . You’re supposed to be smarter than this."

Rose flinched at his words, and for a moment, the room was silent, the tension between them palpable.

"I am smarter than this," Rose finally said, her voice quiet but trembling with emotion. "I’m smart enough to know that some things can’t just be forgiven, Albus. And if you can’t see that, then maybe you’re the one who’s changed—not me."

Albus stared at her, his chest tightening with something like regret, but his pride wouldn't let him back down.

“Ha!” Albus let out a sharp, bitter laugh, his voice dripping with satire. “I can’t believe I just heard a Gryffindor say some things can’t be forgiven! Rose, are you sure you aren’t really a snake too? ”

Her face twisted in fury, but there was something wounded in her eyes. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed, standing now with clenched fists. “Don’t you dare throw that in my face. I’m not the one betraying my family!”

“ Betraying the family? Is that what you think this is about? Because I won’t hate someone just because you tell me to? You’re more like those blood purists than I thought.”

“That’s not fair!” Rose shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. “I’m not like them! I’m trying to protect you, to protect us. You think they won’t turn on you, just like before? You think the Malfoys have changed? You’re being naive, Albus!”

Albus’s jaw tightened, his voice lowering to a dangerous calm. “Maybe I am. But I’d rather be naive than blinded by hate.”

Tension crackled between them, like a charged spell waiting to go off. He knew what he had said didn’t fit Slytherin, and frankly he surprised even himself. The silence deepened, thick with unspoken feelings and the fractured pieces of their once-close bond.

Rose's chest heaved as she fought to maintain her composure, but her anger was still evident in the tightness of her jaw. She wasn’t the first to speak—her Gryffindor pride wouldn’t allow it—but her eyes, filled with a mix of betrayal and disappointment, said everything. She took a step forward, voice shaking with barely restrained emotion.

"You’ve changed, Albus," she said, each word laced with pain. "And not in a good way."

Albus felt his chest tighten, but he forced himself not to look away. "Maybe," he replied quietly, almost resigned. "But maybe I had to. You think you’re protecting me, but you’re wrong. You can’t see past your own anger, Rose. You don’t know what I’ve been through, what Scorpius has been through. I’m not going to cut off my only real friend just because you can’t let go of the past."

Rose’s face crumpled, and for a moment, Albus thought she might cry. But instead, she took a sharp breath, straightening her back with that fierce confidence again. “I hope, for your sake, you’re right about him. But don’t come crying to me when you find out you’re wrong.”

She turned sharply, moving toward the door, but James put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. He had quietly taken in the conversation, never jumping in. “Rose, you’re not leaving like this. Remember you’re here to mend things. You two—” he looked at Albus “—are family. There’s no deeper bond.”

Rose froze, her hand hovering over the doorknob, but she didn’t turn around. Albus could see the tension in her shoulders, her posture rigid as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will. James kept his hand on her shoulder, his voice calm but firm as he continued.

"Rose, don’t let this spiral further. You’re hurt, I get it, but running off now will only make things worse." James’s gaze shifted to Albus, who sat silently, watching the scene unfold. "And you, Al, don’t think you’re off the hook either. This… this isn’t how you fix things."

Rose let out a shaky breath but still didn’t turn around. “James, it’s not that simple.” Her voice was quieter now, almost fragile. "It’s not like we can just pretend this didn’t happen. He—" she hesitated, her voice catching in her throat, "he’s choosing them over us. Over me."

Albus almost flinched at her words, of how accurate it was, and how close she seemed to be able to see through him. But he remained silent.

James didn’t relent. "It’s not about choosing sides, Rose. It's about understanding each other. And right now, neither of you are doing that." He glanced at Albus again, his expression softening, as if he were trying to bridge the gap between them. "Family’s more than blood . It’s about trust , about being there for each other—even when it’s hard."

The room felt heavy with the weight of James’s words, and for a long moment, no one spoke.

Recognizing an opportunity, Albus decided to take it. “I’m sorry, Rose,” he said, his voice softer now. “I should have talked to you. I shouldn’t have run away—but I was scared that you…” He hesitated, letting the weight of the moment sink in. “That you were disappointed in me, that you’d see me differently—just because I was sorted into Slytherin.”

His voice cracked, and he let out a sob, trying to make it sound as genuine as possible, it seemed to work and break the tension. He kept his gaze low, not meeting Rose’s eyes.

The silence stretched out, the air thick with the shared pain they had both been avoiding. James shifted slightly but remained quiet, sensing this was a moment for Albus and Rose to navigate on their own.

Rose’s eyes softened a little as she studied him. She wasn’t entirely convinced, but the rawness in his voice began to chip away at her anger. Though still standing rigid and guarded, something in her posture loosened.

“You really think that’s what this is about?” she asked, her voice quieter now, less sharp. “Albus, it was never about you being in Slytherin. I don’t care about that. I was… angry because you shut me out. You pushed me away, and then you went straight to Scorpius Malfoy, of all people. It hurt. ”

Albus’s breath hitched, and he finally looked up at her. “I didn’t mean to push you away, Rose,” he said quietly. “I just didn’t know how to deal with everything. I felt like—like I didn’t belong. Even with you.”

Rose’s expression wavered, her anger faltering in the face of his honesty. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words got caught in her throat. Instead, she walked toward him and enveloped him in a hug, which he returned, letting out a pent-up breath.

James, still standing by the door, gave a small nod, relief washing over him as he witnessed the fragile bridge forming between his cousins.

Realizing the significance of this moment, Albus knew he couldn’t let this chance slip away. With Rose and James raw with emotion, their minds seemingly unguarded, it was the perfect opportunity for some subtle manipulation. He could sense the cracks in their defenses, the way their feelings hung in the air like fragile glass, ready to shatter.

As he pulled away from Rose, wiping the remnants of his tears, a flicker of determination sparked within him. This was his moment to shape the narrative, to guide their perceptions while they were vulnerable. He took a breath, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.

“ Rose, James –I just need you to trust me” he let out a strained sound to his voice “You need to trust me about Scorpius.” “I haven't been honest with you—because i know you probably wouldn't understand–” “Being in Slytherin is difficult–” “there is so much rules and expectation, with school work with etiquette, with how you speak—” “and there is those who do hold awful opinions about muggleborns, and i have many times gotten into arguments about it!” “But Scorpius isn't one of them, he is always by my side, supporting me! I know him, he doesn't believe those things!” 

They didn't seem fully convinced, he needed something else–

“We live in a new era, one of peace—One different from our parents, and I don't want to make their mistakes—I will not hold the sins of a father over his son.” “Just like how we are not our parents, neither is Scorpius.”

James studied Albus intently, his brow furrowed in thought. The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, it seemed like the tension might lift. “I get that, Al. I really do,” he said slowly. “But it’s not just about Scorpius. It’s about how you’ve been handling all of this. You shutting us out made it feel like you were choosing him over us.”

Rose, still processing Albus's words, shifted her stance, her arms crossed tightly. “It’s hard to trust someone when it feels like they’re hiding things from you,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “I want to believe you, Albus, but it’s difficult. I care about you, and seeing you with him… it’s just been overwhelming.”

“I was scared, Rose. We all know how our families view Slytherins” He glanced toward Rose. then continued  “ James you even used to call it the house of death eaters ” he glanced at his brother who grimaced “I–I just felt so different from everyone, and then the holiday came.”

“It’s not like I wanted to keep things from you; but I just felt like you wouldnt understand .” He pressed on, trying to add weight to every word. He glanced at his brother and cousin, and saw what hit and what did not. “I felt as if I told you how Slytherin really was, then you would just use it to justify your belief more, about Slytherin, and i didnt want that to happen. I felt like I couldn't trust you–I was already on thin ice with dad, he was like a hawk, looking for me to say something bad about my house, so he could use it. You all saw what he did with the journal!” Rose– you don't know but—” he breathed in, eyes scanning them subtlety. “I actually got into a argument with dad —I was just so overwhelmed and well everything just come out—” he let a hurt expression show “I–i know what i said was awful, but–“ he hitched “But i never would have thought that my own mother would raise her wand at me ” he let those last word feel into the silence, he looked over at James who looked almost ready to run away and Rose, she looked horrified. he breathed in for dramatic effect. “My parents—they treat me like i'm going to turn into a dark wizard, and start hating muggle-borns” 

"Then they used that to force me away from my only friend—the only person who actually stopped me from jumping into the Black Lake. " Albus watched their faces carefully, seeing the shock ripple through their expressions. He knew it wasn’t entirely true, but they didn’t need to know that. What mattered was making them understand how important Scorpius was to him—and how guilty they should feel.

“And then you two did the same thing. You tried to take him away too. I felt so... alone,” he added, his voice softening, just enough to let the words sink in. He bowed his head slightly, allowing a few tears to fall, perfectly timed.

Rose's face twisted from shock to guilt, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Albus, I—” she stammered, moving closer, her arms starting to reach for him instinctively. “I didn’t know it was that bad. I thought I was protecting you.”

James, running a hand through his hair, looked conflicted. “Mate, we didn’t know. We thought we were all on the same side.” His voice was quieter now, his earlier frustration fading into something softer. “You should’ve come to us, Al. We’re family. We’ve got your back.”

Albus didn’t respond right away, letting the silence stretch just long enough for his tears to do their work. When he finally looked up, he knew he had them both exactly where he wanted.

His gaze met Rose’s, and he could see her resolve softening, her fierce exterior beginning to crumble. “You’re not alone, Albus. We’re here. We want to help, but you have to let us in. You need to trust us, too,” she said, her voice gentle but pleading.

James stepped forward, earnest and sincere. “I get it, Al. Slytherin has a reputation, but you’re not defined by that. You’re still you. We’re still family, no matter what house you’re in. I promise I won’t let my fears push you away again.”

Albus let their words wash over him, the weight of his earlier manipulation hanging in the air, though neither of them seemed to notice. Their concern enveloped him, the warmth of their support tugging at him. Yet, beneath it all, he remained cautious. He could still mold this moment, still steer them where he wanted.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice trembling with just the right amount of relief and vulnerability. “It means a lot to me that you both care.”

He lowered his gaze again, letting them think he was overwhelmed. In reality, he was already planning his next steps. His tears had done their job, but he knew how to keep them on edge—how to play into their fears of losing him without giving too much away. This wasn’t about forgiveness. It was about control. And right now, he had the upper hand.

++++

Beginning of July 2018.

Albus sat at the breakfast table, lazily munching on cereal. The house was unusually quiet—James was off at a Muggle sleepover, and Lily was still away at camp. The only company he had were his parents, who sat across from him, absorbed in their morning routine. Though there wasn’t any obvious tension, Albus could feel the awkwardness simmering beneath the surface. They were trying too hard to act normal, exchanging glances when they thought he wasn’t looking, their movements careful, as if they were afraid of triggering something in him.

It was infuriating, but he hid his emotions well. He’d grown accustomed to this game—keeping everything under control, playing the long strategy. Initially, he had thought Rose and James would be useful to convince his parents that Scorpius wasn’t dangerous, that his friendship with him wasn’t some rebellious phase or a sign of darker things. But as future considerations unfolded in his mind, he began to wonder if his parents would even find their opinions valuable. After all, Rose and James were still children, so that plan was shelved. Instead, he would pretend that his friendship with Scorpius had ended for now. It was easier that way. Let them think his gloomy behavior stemmed from missing his friend and complying with their wishes.

To distract himself from the spiral of his thoughts, he focused on the Muggle radio, which his parents had oddly taken a liking to. The familiar voice of the news anchor crackled through the room.

“Good morning, everyone! This is Will Robinson with your latest news on BBC Radio 4. Get ready, because Britain is in for a heatwave like we’ve never seen before! Meteorologists are predicting that this summer will break records, with temperatures expected to soar past 40 degrees Celsius in some areas. Yes, you heard that right—this could be the hottest summer ever recorded in the UK!”

“If you’re heading outside, remember to stay hydrated and wear sunscreen. Local councils are urging everyone to avoid strenuous activities during peak heat and to check on vulnerable friends and neighbors.”

Harry glanced up from his copy of the Daily Prophet and muttered, “I hope Lily’s well protected at her camp.” His eyes flicked to the headline on the front page, a brief flicker of unease crossing his features. With a quick motion, he turned the page, trying to hide his concern. Albus noticed the subtle shift, even if his father thought he had concealed it well.

“I’m sure the camp leaders will take precautions,” Ginny said with forced casualness, though her voice carried an edge of concern. She fiddled with her cup of tea, as if trying to shake the tension that had settled over the table.

Albus nodded absently, barely absorbing their words. The radio’s cheerful chatter about the upcoming heatwave did little to distract him from the discomfort of being alone with his parents. Finishing his cereal, he leaned back in his chair, glancing out the window at the blazing summer sun. The thought of dealing with the heatwave on top of everything else made his skin prickle with irritation.

Harry stood up, kissed Ginny on the cheek, and gave Albus a quick, almost reluctant ruffle of his hair. “See you later,” he said, stepping into the fireplace and vanishing in a flash of green flames.

Albus stared at the spot where his father had disappeared, feeling a wave of relief now that the house was a little emptier. He reached across the table for the Daily Prophet, flipping it back to the front page. His eyes skimmed over the headline: Uprise in a New Magical Traditionalist Movement Sweeps Across Europe.

He read the article with detached curiosity.

“A wave of renewed magical traditionalism is sweeping through Europe, with growing factions advocating for a return to ancient magical practices and values. From Poland to Italy, this movement is gaining traction, promising to reshape the magical landscape in ways not seen since the tumultuous eras of the past.

One prominent figure in this growing movement is Dr. Evelyn Blackwood, an expert in historical magical practices and a leading advocate for the return to traditionalism. ‘Magical traditions have been diluted over time,’ Dr. Blackwood asserted in a recent symposium. ‘It is imperative that we return to our ancestral practices to preserve the true essence of our magic.

The movement’s support is expanding rapidly, with many magical communities expressing a desire for a return to the values of the past. In Italy, traditionalist groups are gaining significant influence within local wizarding councils, while in Poland, there are efforts to integrate traditional rites into everyday magical life.”

Albus's eyes lingered on the name: Dr. Evelyn Blackwood. A chill ran down his spine. He leaned back in his chair, and looked out the window again. He really hated the summers.