You think you know someone

 He was moping without having Scorpius to cheer him up, but instead of a Scorpius, he had a Draco, who knew nothing of Albus’ personal issues.

 Albus knew it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. After all, hadn’t his real father confessed to basically the same thing? He admitted wishing that Albus didn’t exist in their timeline, then why did Albus expect anything less from this version of him?

 It shouldn’t havehurt, he kept telling himself. Harry hated him, fine, he knew that much already. He could see it every time Harry looked at him.

 Then why did it hurt so much to hear him say it?

 Albus had skipped breakfast this morning, so his stomach was understandably hungry, even though his appetite would disagree. He decided to drink pumpkin juice as he continued to sulk.

 “I’d check that before swallowing, if I were you.” Draco said offhandedly without sparing a glance at Albus in the Great Hall. 

 “What do you mean?” Albus asked disinterestedly, but he parted the cup from his lips and settled it back on the table.

 “Pansy heard Gryffindor girls talking about slipping you a love potion.”

 That put Albus’ brooding to a temporary halt. Why?

 “Isn’t she a prefect? Why didn’t she confiscate that?” These things should be illegal. Aunt Hermione spoke publicly once of how problematic it was for people to have easy access to them.

 “Because they were only discussing it, they didn’t have one for her to confiscate.” Draco made a face. “Not that I think she would’ve stopped them. Parkinson craves the drama.”

 “Why?”

 “Why what?”

 “Why would they want to do that?”

 Draco shrugged. “Last Hogsmeade’s trip before the Holiday is ‘round this weekend. They fancy themselves a date with at least one of the Harry Potters.” Draco looked sideways at Albus in amusement. 

 “But why me?”

 “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m sure they would’ve done that to Potter if you hadn’t shown up. Him being the ‘Chosen One’ and that rubbish.”

 “But I’m not the Chosen One. I made that very clear.”

 “I don’t think they care.” Theodore chimed in, having overheard them. “You’re the closest they have to the real thing.”

 “Okay,” Albus turned his attention to Theodore Nott sitting across from him and Draco. “Why not just have a go at the real thing then?”

 “You think they haven’t tried? Potter is always with the Mud—er, the muggle born and the ginger.” Albus narrowed his eyes despite Theodore having already corrected himself. “Besides, you’re the more approachable of the two.”

 Albus wanted to laugh. By what standards?

 He never thought he’d live the day people start calling him the more approachablePotter. Him? Approachable? Albus snorted in derision. They should meet Jimmy—or literally any member of his family!

 But it was true. His younger dad was more antisocial than Albus expected him to be. He knew his dad was always soft-spoken in public. But for him to be worse than Albus when he was his age was unimaginable before Albus witnessed it himself. For the hundredth time, he was reminded of just how little he really knew his father.

 But he knew his dad well enough to know that he, Albus, would always be a disappointment in his eyes.

Albus found a technique to help stabilize himself. He shoved all the negative emotions deep, deep down and prayed they wouldn’t come up and make him burst.

 He avoided Harry for the remainder of the month while secretly teaching himself the Patronus Charm. When his tries had been to no avail, he asked Luna for help. He told her that he heard Neville talk about knowing how to cast it thanks to a secret student organization he had been involved in last year called Dumbledore’s Army. (Albus never specified which Neville had told him that.)

 Luna decided to involve Ginny and the three of them would spend half an hour in an empty classroom to help Albus. He was incredibly grateful for their help, especially since Ginny and Luna were in their OWLs year, so their schedules were already crammed.

 Throughout the first two weeks of training, he made very little progress. He was able to summon steams of silvery-blue glow, but nothing corporal.

 “Don’t beat yourself up, Al. You’re doing great!” Ginny beamed at him.

 Albus smiled weakly at his mum.

 Luna looked up from her copy of the Quibbler Magazine to give him a thumbs up.

 “Trust me, I’ve seen others struggle with it a lot more than you. I struggled with it myself before I got the hang of it.” Ginny said. “Say, are you sure you’re using the happiest memory you’ve got?”

 “Believe me. I’m trying.”

 It seemed he did not have a memory happy enough to make a Patroni, but if he did, he knew exactly what was holding him back from succeeding.

 “You know, the Patronus is a form of Light magic, which relies heavily on happy emotion.” Luna said in her dreamy voice.

 “Yes, Luna. I’m aware.”  It was hard not to sound sarcastic while he said it.

 Ginny hummed. “I think what Luna is saying is that there might be something weighing down on you, making it hard to feel happiness of whatever memory you’re working with. Something you can’t stop thinking about?” The last part sounded like a question.

 Albus saw his mother peering at him expectantly. “It’s complicated.”

 “I’m all ears.”

 Luna looked up curiously from her magazine. “Four of them.”

 Albus felt he was backed into a corner.

 “Er, I don’t want to burden you with my problems.” He said lamely.

 “You’re not burdening us, Al, we’re your friends.” Ginny said kindly.

 He really wished he could talk about this stuff with his real mother. She understood him best. But if Harry proved to Albus anything, it was that no matter how different their worlds were from one another, people were the same.

 As for Luna, well, it’s Luna. She was kind by nature and he could trust her.

 “It’s just, my dad and I always had. . . problems, you know?”

 Ginny nodded sympathetically, wanting to understand. “And you regret parting on bad terms?”

 Well, that’s part of it, he thought. “I think I regret that with almost my entire family. Our disagreements were so silly though. I know that they love me, and I love them and miss them as well. Especially my mum. I miss her the most.” He looked at Ginny longingly. “I’m planning on telling her that the moment I can form a corporal Patronus.” He ended resolutely.

 “And your da? What about him?”

 Albus gave Ginny a grim look. “I don’t care about him.”

 “Yet, you care enough to be upset?” Luna added thoughtfully.

 He sighed tiredly. “I don’t know. . . I guess? I try not to care too much of what he thinks of me, but it’s hard.” His eyes prickled with tears, but he quickly blinked them away.

 “Is it because you’re a Slytherin? I don’t know James Potter, but he’d be a right prick if he gives you trouble because of that. Don’t listen to him, Al, you’re great.” Ginny said firmly.

 Albus was confused why she was upset with his brother all of a sudden before remembering his role. He appreciated the sentiment, but not the badmouthing of his dead grandfather. “Thanks.” He said hesitantly.

 It actually helped a little to hear Ginny say those words. He realized.

 “Our problems have a lot more to do than what House I am, but I think it’s what spurred our, er. . . our estrangement.”

 “Well, don’t let him bother you. I’m sure you’re a great son, and he’s probably regretting how he’d treated you right this second. He’s definitely missing you loads.”

 It really felt like he was talking to his real mum. Great, now Albus felt nostalgic. Perhaps it was homesickness that was stopping him from making a Patroni after all.

He thought about telling Ginny. Repeatedly.

 “What’s stopping you?” Draco asked.

 “Ugh, I don’t know!” Albus buried his face to his pillow one morning when everyone in their dormitory were already gone. “I don’t know how to begin—that’s the bloody problem.”

 “You seemed to have done fine when it was me.” The blonde stated, doing his tie.

 “Well yeah, it’s because I panicked!” Albus lifted his head from his pillow to glare at him. “In case you forgot, you were trying to kill me.”

 “And you thought telling me about your true identity would’ve stopped me?” Draco asked incredulously.

 “Listen, I was in a very dark place at the time. . . I still am. But back then, I’ve found out that I ruined my mum’s chance of ever getting together with my dad. And right after that, I discovered that you were trying to kill the wrong Albus. And when I found the diadem with you, I just—look.” He sat properly on his bed. “I was so high on adrenaline, and I had an idea, so went with it! Sue me!” He threw his hands in the air exasperatedly before falling backwards on the mattress.

 “Mmhmm.” Draco said, not seeming to be really listening.

 “Reckon Sirius Black will send another Patronus while I’m with her? If only I could be that lucky.”

 “You might. You got that Potter Luck like your father.” Draco grumbled.

 “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous—actually scratch that—you are jealous.”

 Draco threw a shoe at him.

Next week was school break, and Ginny had invited him to stay at the Burrow for the upcoming holidays. Albus wanted to accept, he really did. It would be great to see his grandparents, and he did miss his grandmother’s cooking dearly—he’d even meet Uncle Fred!

 The one thing stopping Albus from wanting to go was that Harry would probably be there too. Albus hadn’t spoken to him since their unpleasant chat in the Chamber of Secrets. And he wasn’t looking forward to starting soon.

 He sat on the hearth of the Slytherin common room, studying his History of Magic textbook while ignoring his Advanced Rune Translation on the floor beside him.

 Students slowly started going off to bed until it was only Albus and Draco that were left studying.

 “At what age do Malfoy blokes grow their hair?” He asked randomly from sheer boredom.

 He grinned when Draco shot him an unimpressed look. “If you’re talking about my father, it is a personal preference. . . why? Does my older counterpart have his hair grown?”

 “Are you not planning to?”

 “I haven’t thought about—you know what, don’t you have a Patronus Charm you need to practice?”

 “I don’t know. Don’t you have a closet you need to get back into to?” Albus smirked at his own joke.

 Draco looked startled before surveying Albus. “Do you care to tell me when had my counterpart have the cabinet fixed?”

 Albus thought for a moment. “Not until sometime next term, why?”

 “Just curious.” Draco got up from his seat and marched toward the exit.

 “Wait, you’re going now?” Albus groaned.

 Draco paused, and for a moment, Albus thought he might change his mind and head to the dormitory instead. “Yes.”

 “Why?”

 Draco slowly peered at Albus over his shoulder. “Umm, would you like to come with?”

Albus didn’t know why he agreed. Was it because he was thrilled that Draco trusted him, or was it because of his own curiosity regarding the whole cabinet situation, he wasn’t sure. But Harry had been right. Albus should not have trusted Draco as easily as he had done.

 “Why?” Albus croaked from his place on the floor of the Room of Hidden Things. Draco had disarmed his and cast a spell to bind Albus’ wrists and ankles.

 “You know why. You of all people should know why!” Draco said from where he stood several steps away. “You understand why my counterpart did this, don’t you? That he had no choice—”

 “But you do!” Albus shouted angerly.

 “The cabinet’s been fixed for the last two weeks.” Draco stated, his face betraying nothing. “The Death Eaters aren’t going to attack the castle until the Dark lord orders them to. In the meantime, the Dark lord is getting impatient.” He looked away from Albus. “He wants you dead.”

 “So that’s it then. You’re really going to do it?” Albus looked up pleadingly. “You’re not a murderer Draco.”

 “You’re right. I’m not.” He said tonelessly. He walked toward the cabinet and began saying the incantation to unlock it. When he was done, he leaned against it. Eyes closed as he tried to shake away any second thoughts he might be having. “That’s why the Dark lord will finish you off himself.”

 A sharp chill ran down Albus’ spine, he was terrified. “You don’t have to do this.” He whispered helplessly.

 Draco still wouldn’t look at him. “No. I must.”

 “Draco, please—”

 “Stupefy.”