Chapter 4
The new free periods the Sixth Years had received were more "recommended study sessions" than actual free periods, it would seem, as Albus begrudgingly strove to cast a levitating charm non-verbally. His quill floated feebly. It had been weeks since he had landed in the past and days since Hermione conjectured that something probably went wrong during his time as opposed to his father's. Alas, the grind of academics is unrelenting. He couldn't just do nothing and in addition to pretending to be Harry Potter — which he mainly tried to do by not doing much since he did not want to create even more wrinkles in time or confrontations with angry professors — he had to learn stuff normal Sixth Years did.
Ron and Hermione were doing their best to play along but Albus could sense that they were getting increasingly pessimistic and dismayed at the current turn of events. They missed their friend and Albus could honestly sympathize with them. He missed his friends too, even though sometimes they were bastards. His missed his siblings too, even though James was often insufferable. Mostly, however, he missed Scorpius. Scorpius always knew how to calm him down when he was in one of his petty fits. (Because, yes, Albus Potter would reluctantly admit that at times he was a petty person.)
But never mind that. He had work to attend to. It annoyed him to no end, those essays pertaining to History of Magic, a class he usually never paid much attention to. (Peeking into the minds of brainy Ravenclaws during crucial exams usually helped him coast through things…)
Anyhow, he wasn't even meant to be here. But more importantly, Al pondered, what should he be doing right now? Should he — as his esteemed namesake seemed to suggested — simply leave things as is or should he try to do what his father would do? Indeed, what would his dad do? But wouldn't that cause even more problems? All of this was hurting his brain.
"Ron, dude," he found himself blurting to the red-headed guy sitting next to him, "If my dad suspected the someone was totally a Death Eater and probably up to something really shady… what would he do?"
Ron, however, was preoccupied by someone called Lavender. Al frowned. He can't allow that to happen. As much as he would feud with Rose and her friends, he did not want Rose to be erased out of existence. They had issues and hadn't been on best of terms but they were still family. And — yuck — they were holding each other and sort of ignoring them. Revolting. Al noticed that Aunt Hermione was gazing them in a rather dismayed manner. "Hermione… quick… cast a jinx on them!" He suggested. She rolled her eyes at him.
"Al… that was… uncalled for…"
"No, I mean… I don't want my cousin erased out of existence—"
"You are so weird." Hermione rolled her eyes but Al could tell that she was displeased with the current make out session in front of her. Lavender seemed to be on the verge of eating Ron's face.
Sighing, Albus got his wand out of his pocket, hid it under the table and pointed it at Lavender. Maybe this would be a good chance to practice non-verbal spells. He had always been good at casting the Furnuculus Curse.
With a flick of his wand — Furnunculus — and —
"Argh! Lavender, what in Merlin is happening to your face!" Ron gasped and withdrew himself from the girl. Al suppressed a smile, feeling rather pleased with himself. This was destiny at work—
Hermione elbowed him hard, her eyes glaring.
"I'm doing you a favor," he whispered frantically, defending himself.
She rolled her eyes in disdain again and this frustrated Al. Any idiot with eyes could tell that she was totally into Ron.
~X~
Albus was first exposed to Occlumency thanks to his parents really, who had suggested that it would help him calm his mind after experiencing being constantly bombarded with a myriad of unwelcome opinions about various things— and developing emotions verging on depression and despair. He couldn't help it. They just poured into his mind, seared into his consciousness and plagued on his insecurities. Ever since he was a child he could hear thoughts on the streets about his famous dad and his family. It bored into him. All the manipulative sweet talk, all the gregarious paparazzis and favors on his way. It made him cynical and depressed.
Al was a natural Legilimens and his dad theorized that he shouldn't have too much trouble figuring out how Occlumency works. It would help seal his mind off from the flurry of unwanted thoughts floating around. HIs dad had even offered to coach him on it, even though the man suggested he had initially struggled a lot with it.
His mind was blank now. A tranquil darkness was about him. Neither happy nor sad memory rose to prominence. Oblivion reigned. But that wasn't enough. He needed a shield, a wall of ambiguous defense that wouldn't obscure the path for any intruder. Gardens. Flowers. His grandma Molly loved those. It would certainly be nice, traversing though some garden. But it wasn't enough.
There needed to be more layers. More defenses. A flicker of a memory on the Hogwarts Express, dim enough to not reveal anything personal— a controlled, cultivated digression. Al liked the spectacle of trees that it bypassed, the smell of—
Something was missing—
A figment of his imagine, it was not… there was a blank intermission…. something wrong… something unfilled
— Someone had done it to him, Obliviated his—
"Potter," a voice snapped.
Al looked up again, against sneering coal black eyes. "Professor, Snape… you were saying?"
"Inferi, Potter—"
"Corpses that have been reanimated for nefarious purposes, Sir, usually by Dark Wizards—"
"And the means to counter them—"
"Sir, I'm not sure what you're trying to—"
"Fire, Potter, fire—"
"Yes, but Sir, it also depends on what types of fire right? If a simple Incendio solved the trick then Inferi wouldn't be the scary creatures we heard about in the—"
"Of course not, are you an imbecile—"
"Of course not, Sir," Al answered quickly and tried to be polite.
"10 points from Gryffindor!"
~X~
"I was Obliviated by someone!" Al declared in front of Ron and Hermione, who glanced at each other. "There are things about the last few minutes of my time on the Hogwarts Express that I should remember… but I could sense that gaps were missing from my memory. Is there a way to figure out, to recover old memories?"
"Not that we know off, but I should be able to do some research on it," Hermione finally replied after much contemplation. "But this means…"
"There was some sort of premeditated attack? Whoever sent me back in time — and for now I — we— have no idea who did this, but whoever did this, didn't want anyone to know about it," Al finished off her sentence.
~X~
It wasn't so much that he sucked at flying. It was more that he was bad at Quidditch. He didn't mind hopping onto a broom and soaring in the skies, but the idea of chasing after some Quaffle or Snitch or— well, it was too much multi-tasking. It was —
Well, it didn't matter.
Al was alone in the middle of the night, perched on top of his broom above Hogwarts grounds. Ron and Hermione were doing Prefect patrols. He needed to figure shit out. It wasn't much of a choice. He had to figure out how to catch a snitch and how to play at least mildly competently so as to not be perceived as a complete joke the new training session.
The cold wind blew into his face and he wiped his stray locks out of the way.
Once upon a time, he had sort of enjoyed playing Quidditch with his siblings. Of course, he wasn't particularly good at it but he stilled enjoyed it. He actually preferred the role of Chaser, mostly because James called dibs on Seeker and James was better than him anyway but he didn't really care. As time progressed his interest simply petered out. By the time Al stepped foot in Hogwarts and failed to mount his broom in flying class, Al decided he had lost all interest. Quidditch was his brother's thing, his territory of glory. Sure, he would watch the games but he preferred to comment and make bets on outcomes.
Still, he enjoyed the current birds-eyed view of Hogwarts castle. His grasp on the broom is a little shaky but manageable. He was much better at flying when nobody was watching, something which needed to be fixed.
Grasping his broom at an angle, he dived, before finally halting just inches above ground. That was close. Could have been better.
"Not bad," he heard uncle Ron's voice as he dismounted. "When you said you were bad at Quidditch, I expected something much worse."
"You see, it's all well and good until the Quaffles come out. Or Snitches. Or Bludgers. I've developed this irrational fear of them," Al muttered. It was true. He often wailed to Scorpius that he would rather die than play competitive Quidditch, which was — to be fair— rather dramatic. "But thanks for the compliment. Can't say I'm not anxious."
"Harry's one of the best Quidditch players I've met and since you're his son, well, you can't be too far off," Ron said.
Oh no. Oh hell no. "Not you too, Ron," Al reflexively complained. "Literally everyone says this but it seems my parents' talents here eluded me." He resisted the urge to break out into a rant, knowing how unpleasant he could sound, so he decided to make a self-deprecating comment instead and gave Ron a grin. Neither did he feel like teasing Ron about Hermione at the moment, but there certainly was something else on his mind. "You were best friends with my dad right — I mean, Harry… what do you think he would have done had he suspected Draco Malfoy was secretly a Death Eater and totally up to something underhanded?"
~X~
"Professor Snape hates me and I don't know why?!" Al threw his arms up in the air and Ron glanced at him with amusement as the guy whispered furiously, frustration evident. Whether Hermione was paying any attention to his remarks, he had no idea, having voluntarily chose to block their thoughts out of respect. But she did appear absorbed in reading the textbook. "I figured out how to cast a wordless Shield Charm and all he did was call me arrogant. What is wrong with him?"
"Potter, don't roll your eyes at me! Another 10 points off Gryffindor!"
Al groaned. "I wasn't even actually rolling my eyes!" He complained to Ron.
Although he still respected the man for what the guy did during the Second Wizarding War, he was starting to have some real qualms about being partially named after Snape.
~X~
It was a sunny morning in the Hogwarts Great Hall where students chatted merrily as they dined among themselves. But the peace was disrupted when Anya Corner strode towards the Slytherin table and slapped Harry — who still felt very uncomfortable being there and listening to some guy called Jon Nott's complaints about his uncle locking his mom out of her share of the inheritance — firmly on the cheek. "That was for telling everyone I dumped you because my OWLs, spreading rumours and slandering my good name!"
"What the— what is—"
"That was for being slimy, smarmy, lying piece of shit and ruining my whole Fifth Year of Hogwarts!"
"Hey— calm down— let Al expl—"
"Shut up Scorpius! You've enabled this piece of shit!" She pointed her finger at not-Draco Malfoy but rather his seemingly nice, decent spawn. "You did nothing! Nothing when he slept with Joanna behind my back! Nothing when he spent weeks, months copying MY homework for History of Magic without my permission— you, you, you, all of you … made me seem like some homework-obsessed, crazy —"
"Well, excuse us but right now you sound exactly like a homework-obsessed crazy — with a lot of emphasis on the crazy part — girl," someone else on the table interjected. Harry remembered that he was called Lawrence Applebee.
Another guy on their table — Hector, his name was, as far as Harry could recall — looked very amused at this unfolding drama. "But you did dump Al right before your OWLs."
"He was ruining my appetite to study!"
"See? So technically you did dump him for your OWLS?" Jon quipped.
There was snickering all over the table and around the Great Hall too, before Hector finally burst into laughter and the rest of them followed suit. Anya's face was not red with anger. Harry felt slightly uncomfortable about all of this. Everyone around him seemed kind of mean about this girl who was reportedly Albus's ex-girlfriend — he would also remind himself to, in future, raise a son that did not cheat on girls and use them for homework purposes — and he wanted to get up and apologize to her on Albus's behalf. "Anya, I'm sorry," he said. He wasn't sure how she'd react.
She frowned, as if not expecting this reaction and response from him. Flushed, she gave him a weak smile. "Well, you've got a long way to go in terms of not being a colossal ass. Better start somewhere." Before he could reply further, she strode away. Harry noticed that Scorpius frowned as he observed all of this before him.
"Dude," Lawrence said, "You forgave her?"
"What do you mean—"
"She literally got you banned from the Ravenclaw Common Room. You used to go there all the time to get your History of Magic homework done cuz you would always sleep through class and for some reason you really wanted to take class because you really wanted to be Lawyer."
A Lawyer?! What kind of aspiration was that? That sounded like something a heartless, soulless, corporate goon would want. (He would make a note to never raise a son who would want to be a lawyer.) "I felt bad," Harry tried to say neutrally.
"Well, well, our dear Albus finally woke up on the right side of his bed today," someone else remarked. "With the sun shining out of his ass."
~X~
He was trailing behind Draco Malfoy and had cast a silencing charm around his Invisibility Cloak, of which he was firmly hidden under. The guy seemed to be approaching the Room of Requirement— he recalled Scorpius telling him that the place had briefly burnt down during the Siege of Hogwarts but had slowly repaired itself throughout the years. Al used to hide out there at times to get away from people that annoyed him, which, in all honestly, included almost everyone.
He slipped behind the door just after Draco had entered and his right hand held his wand. He was prepared to stun the guy if necessary. But he was also curious. The guy seemed to be standing in front of a cupboard. There were sob noises, tears trailed down his cheeks and he was shaking. He was struggling to fix the thing, Al concluded, and he was panicking. On the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Perhaps it would make sense to stun the guy right now, bind him and then finally present him to the professors that he was, indeed, up to something shifty but somehow all Al could do was stare. He knew from Scorpius that the guy's father was an accomplished Occlumens and that it would be difficult to worm his way into the guy's head without him finding out, but Al also had years and years of both witting and unwitting practice. Normally this wouldn't have been particularly successful and this would have ended in disaster but seeing as the guy in front of him was having virtually a mental breakdown — this was the perfect chance to try. People when undergoing mental breakdowns — no matter how accomplished at Occlumency — always have a chink in their defenses. It would work as long as Al doesn't get caught. There was definitely a risk in this calculation. Curiosity, however, got the better of him.
There was a flash in the Forbidden Forests — a blond guy— Draco — kneeling before a man with serpentine features and ghastly pale skin— no doubt the Dark Lord — he stood up as he brandished out his arm to receive the Dark Mark—
— There were cries, wails even, of an older woman— begging, crying in front of him—
— "Please, Draco, I just want you to stay safe"—
— "I have to, Mother, it's — it's the only way—"
He slipped out before the guy could notice. That was a close one. Al struggled to suppress his panting and panicking. Further inspection would be far too risky. The guy seemed to already suspect something was awry, but his emotions were overwhelmed by frustrations pertaining to other matters.
Draco Malfoy was now kicking the cupboard before him. Yelling, screaming, crying again. Al stood there, behind his Invisibility Cloak — well technically his father's but his father also had passed it down to him eventually so— and observed the scene before him, speechless. Scorpius had indeed told him that his father's last two years in Hogwarts were a nightmare, that at some point he had received the Dark Mark and had been forced to do horrible things. Well, forced is a word that can only be used with certain liberties. Mr Malfoy had insisted that he was indeed at least partially buying into the ideology behind it and had tried his best to raise Scorpius free of similar attitudes.
Malfoy's fists collided with the cupboard and he broke down, collapsing onto his knees.
Somehow all Albus could do was stare at the guy in front of him, frowning in contemplation. There must be something important about this cupboard, but what exactly was it? And what were those flashes, those figments of memories that he just saw?
Minutes, hours passed before Draco finally got up and left. Al remained in stunned silence. Scorpius never really specifically said anything about what his father had done in those years and that was mostly because Draco Malfoy had indeed, though insistent on reminding his son why he was so wrong, had neglected— no, deliberately chosen to mention the specifics. That was what his friend seemed to indicate and that was also the impression Al got on the few occasions that Scorpius did invite him to his house. (Which admittedly had been a bit awkward at times ever since his mother had passed away, mostly because Mr Malfoy was never a particularly talkative person so it was just him and Scorpius alone and chatting about sweets, history, trivia and books and playing cards and chess in a giant, over-sized mansion; Al preferred to invite Scorpius to his place or take a clandestine journey through muggle London with that guy.)
It was one of those times when Al wished he had indeed paid more attention to History of Magic or at least bothered to read the most updated versions of the textbook. Merlin how he hated that class — it was so boring and essentially functioned as sleeping time to prevent the development of dark circles around his eyes. He had only begrudgingly taken it for advanced NEWTS because he needed to pass it if he ever wanted to be a Lawyer.
Sighing he approached the door from the corner where he hid. But before he step out of the room he sensed an ever darker presence. It was ominous, bone-chilling, but he could not fathom what it was. It made him nervous, anxious, paranoid. He scanned his eyes through the room but couldn't quite locate it.
He slammed the door shot before he could contemplate any further.
~X~
Scorpius sighed as he wiped his eyes. Sweet Merlin it was embarrassing, but he couldn't help it. (Al would have teased, laughed at him and then made him feel better with his smile.) Every day, every week without Albus… it was dawning on him that he really couldn't do without his friend for much longer. He had no heart to join in on the banters in their dormitory anymore, scarcely capable of paying attention in class — which was a really, really big deal — and unable to sleep properly.
It started off fine, he convinced himself that he would be calm, maintain cover of Harry Potter's identity — the younger one, that is — and walk the guy through the current situation and, maybe, maybe even become friends with him. As much as he held Al's dad in awe, though, his younger rendition was no replacement for his best friend (and perhaps even more) and increasingly, it left Scorpius feeling desolate. He tried to remain cheerful, maintain decor, but he knew that the mirage would soon breakdown.
He couldn't really blame Harry. The guy had been wrenched from a different time, a different mindset and Scorpius knew he was probably contemplating about the friends he had left behind as well as the — very real — war against the Dark Lord he was supposed to fight. Switching places with Al— oh Sweet Merlin, Al was definitely going to have a breakdown on that end too — the sooner they figured out what happened and reversed this, the better.
It was late at night and he had been studying at the library. Packing his bags and books before Madame Prince finally decided to kick him out, Scorpius headed back towards his dorm. She had been particularly grouchy these days about students staying late, even more so than before, especially since more and more people have developed a habit of making out in the Forbidden Section. Scorpius thought he could hear grunting noises, but before he could investigate further, the two of them seemed to reveal themselves.
"Scorpius?!"
"James?!"
"What — who— Claire?!"
He had caught James Sirius Potter — Head Boy and prankster extraordinaire, Al's incessantly teasing big brother — in a rather unflattering position with his fellow Head Girl Claire Zabini and now she was elbowing him hard. "You idiot! He wouldn't have found out if you just kept quiet!"
"I— I better get going," Scorpius said as he scuttled off before he could witness further. He briefly wondered how his best friend would have felt about this scene given that Claire was actually supposed to be Al's friend (and he once suspected that Al had a crush on her before Al vociferously dismissed this as nonsense and proceeded to date Joanna Vane) and also because Al was pretty insistent that his brother would eventually get together with Annie Bones. Then there's also the fact that those two seemed to have hated each other since their First Years and carried on their animosity year after year, throwing jibes and snide comments, spiking each others' drinks and ruining each others' dates— oh wait—
He turned a corner, evading the ever watchful eyes of Miss Norris and a grouchy Filch.
And proceeded to find himself face to face with Filch's cupboard. Merlin's beard, he had the worst luck in the world.
But he noticed that something else was off. There seemed to be a shifting noise inside it.
No— there were two voices inside it and they appeared to be communicating in hushed noises.
"… Harry Potter…" Scorpius caught wind of that name being uttered, but the whispers were so faint he had to draw closer, which was risky.
"… Time travel…"
"… Switch…"
"… don't know if it worked…"
Scorpius shifted closet to the key hole and tried to peek at what was going on inside. He caught a whiff of long, curly black hair but couldn't see anything else — it reminded him of Joanna's hair, but that was too little evidence for credible speculation. There was also some weird smell inside it.
And then it dawned on him. They were brewing some polyjuice potion.
Quietly, he made his way back to the library, hoping that he would still be able to catch wind of James and Claire. Someone else needed to know about this.
~X~
"Terry— what the hell did you do?"
"— Oh come on— "
"You've ruined everything!"
Sparks flew and someone casted an Itching Hex on that guy, who fell on the ground, collapsing and laughing. "Okay, okay, okay, I get it—"
"Expelliarmus!" Harry stood up behind the sofas and disarmed the caster.
"Woah, woah, woah, what is going on?" The guy that had previously been rolling on the floor— Terry— stood up, confused. He was wearing a Hufflepuff tie but had evidently been unwillingly dragged — summoned — into the Slytherin common room for some secretive matter. And drawing conclusions from his last name, Johnson, he must have been a muggleborn wizard. After observing the arguments unfolding before him, Harry couldn't help himself but interfere. He did not like where this could go.
"Our dear friend Al decided to disarm me out of the blue," a voice drawled, mildly peeved. It was the guy called Jon, Jonathan Nott, whose notorious ancestor —
"You guys were about to—" Harry protested.
"What? All we did was cast an Itching Hex," Cornelius complained, "Literally First Years do this to each other all the time. You used to do this all the time before you became a Prefect and a wanker! Remember that time you made ME laugh for a whole HOUR?"
"You know fully well why luring this— this —"
"Oh sweet Merlin…" Scorpius facepalmed as he entered the Common Room and witnessed wands being drawn, glares being shot at each other and very, very confused Terry, who looked like he just wanted to get away and lodge himself back into the safe confines of the Hufflepuff dormitory. "It's… it's not what you think it is. Terry is our friend. Okay, I mean, he's Duke's friend."
"I'm just as confused as you are," Terry said, shrugging. "But… but we're still good right? Joanie, Annie and them lot say they're perfectly willing to help."
"Yes, yes, but they can't just go around telling everyone else," Jon chastised them. "Especially not the Professors!"
"Yeah we don't want more people getting involved than necessary," Hector remarked. "Could be— you know— very risky."
"And everyone knows you Hufflepuffs are notoriously unable to keep secrets from figures of authority," Lawrence sighed. "And stickers for rules…"
"We're also known for our loyalty to friends and allies," Terry corrected. "I mean, we are—"
"Yeah, yeah,"Cornelius dismissed his claims, "Of course we deeply appreciate your help. We just wished you would have told us before that you were going to—"
"Well, Annie and the lot sort of already knew before, I just didn't tell you guys—"
"You, WHAT?!—"
"You know what, never mind," Hector said, "It's a small … misunderstanding." He was glaring at the others in a manner that seemed to say 'we shall not speak of this anymore and let's pretend we're all good.'
"May I ask…" Scorpius wanted to chime in, but he was slightly unsure about what to say. "What is this… about?" He seemed just as confused as Harry.
"Well fuck it, it seems like everyone here knows already," Lawrence snorted, "Well, apart from Scorpius but still, sorry dude— Albus, remember that one time in the middle of Fifth Year when we got super drunk and decided it would be a good idea to start an illegal Ecstasy Potion supply ring? And then you went ahead and stole a bunch of supplies and actually eded up brewing an Ecstasy Potion right here before deciding it was a stupid idea when you finally sobered up? Well, we didn't actually break the glass lose it. We went ahead and kind of well, started this whole mini business that sort of evolved into an extensive errr Drug Empire— "
"What?" Harry was too confused to utter anything else. This sounded too stupid to be true.
"Yeah and since then, well, business has been booming and it has sort of spiraled out of control. Everyone wanted some of their hands on it. Hey, I mean, it goes great with a glass of fire whiskey. And since demand has been increasing, we have been recruiting more and more people. Of course, it was those foolhardy Gryffindors that started the trend, I mean, land of the brave am I right? But who knew that the Hufflepuffs were big into this stuff too. We started supplying them later last year and these folks just can't get enough of it! Heck, even the Ravenclaws got on board with it. Though coming to think of it, those kooks and repressed academics are in dire need of mental stimulation. Scary stuff. Anyways, so that's basically what we've been doing most of last year and we didn't really tell you — since, you know, being a Prefect and all and also cuz your dad's the Head of the Aurors and we don't want the Aurors to put us in jail or on some weird rehab scheme because we all know how embarrassing that would be — also, we didn't tell Scorpius because you two are basically joined at the hip—"
"But what does, this guy, Terry have to—"
"See, yes," Hector continued Lawrence's explanation, "This is exactly the point where Terry and his Hufflepuff connections come up. Our errr potions rings - not drugs! not drugs - has expanded so much that we are looking for extra suppliers and distributors in other houses. Now, as we all know, the Hufflepuffs reside closest to the kitchens and have proximate access to whole array of kitchen staff and capable House Elves, who could, you know, acquire more stuff fill in for us and potentially expand our array of fun err potions brewed. So we approached Terry and asked for help. Well, Duke here" — he pointed to a guy who looked rather resigned and befuddled at the current scene unfolding before him—"he was good friends with Terry from Care of Magical Creatures. We explained everything to him and basically begged him to help out."
"And I agreed," Terry shrugged, but also seemed rather wary. "Those were some phenomenal products you guys made. Sensational. A staple in our parties."
"Bless you and your Hufflepuff generosity," Cornelius commented and then took over the convoluted explanation from his friends, "Anyways, all went well except now we've learned that Terry told some of his other housemates and some of his housemates ended up telling some Prefect, putting us at great risk of exposure. So, basically, almost half of Hufflepuff knows about our endeavor, which isn't really that big of a deal except - to add to insult - we are not even invited to any of their parties! And now they think we are all druggies - except we don't even take our own potions and conceptions as much! Don't get high on your own supply, I mean, heh, okay, just kidding... Okay maybe not half of Hufflepuff, that's an exaggeration, but still. Now we look like idiots! In front of Hufflepuffs — Hufflepuffs! Oh and not to mention they're now asking us to supply them with some for their House-wide party, which we're not even invited to!"
"Hey! It wasn't my decision! I argued for your guys' admission but rules are the rules! No non-Hufflepuff has ever been invited to our House-wide parties!"
"— And now that you know we are all going to get busted," Jon sighed dramatically, interjecting Terry's defense.
"Wait," Harry blurted out, "So this isn't about Terry being muggleborn? But about —"
"Dude! We've had this conversation a million times your First Year already! No! We don't hex muggleborn wizards as target practice and we're not going to murder you in your sleep. Holy Merlin, Albus, I thought you had gotten over this!' Hector threw his arms in the air. "My dad is literally a muggle and my parents' marriage is perfectly happy and balanced so I don't have any issues on that side!" He sounded rather indignant.
"Yeah, remember when you installed alarms around your bed because you thought we were going to kidnap you or something but the only time it went off was when James somehow sneaked in and tried pranking you?" Jon gazed at him rather accusatorially. With a dramatic sigh, he put his hand in front of his heart. "It was rather hurtful. Although it was pretty funny seeing your brother being caught red-handed."
"Also, you banned us from dating your hot sister. That was totally not cool. Can you lift the ban?"
There was silence.
"Dude, Lawrence, read the room!"
"Okay." Lawrence slumped back into the corner.
"Point is, no— Terry is our friend. We're hexing him because he's being a moron but we've sort of forgiven him —right? We good, Terry? Apologies for the hex… Anyways, yeah, not because he's a muggleborn wizard," Lucas, another one of those guys chimed in. "Although, my dude, have you ever thought about getting your dad to give us a small loan so we can start selling these potions to his unknowing muggle friends at premium prices—"
"No. I think that's illegal," Terry rejected the request flatly. They gazed at him disappointedly.
"Bummer."
"Although if there was a perfectly lawful way of doing this…"
"Well I guess I will have to ask my parents to lobby for it then!" Lawrence declared.
"Although," Terry added, "I can try to sneak you guys into our party. If you all are still interested..." He seemed rather guilty. There was obviously still a lot of details that were untold.
"Yes, yes we are," Hector declared.
Harry watched the drama unfold before him and was rather short of words. "I… I need some time to process this…"
"You're… not going to deduct House Points, right? Pretty please!"
"Oh stop it! Of course he isn't you bloody idiot!"
Harry felt Scorpius's hand. The guy had given him a piece of mint candy. "Sweets can help you calm your nerves." The blond guy in the room was the only person who appeared just as confused as he was.
"Also, Albus — don't tell Claire, please."
Harry nodded, even though he had no idea who Claire was.
He was prepared to face a whole Common Room's worth of potential Dark Side supporters and fight his way heroically back to Gryffindor Tower, where he actually belonged. He was, however, not prepared for a whole room of lunatics who were essentially more unscrupulous, psychopathic versions of the Weasley Twins. "I'm going to bed," Harry announced. "It's late."
Everyone blinked at him, but acquiesced to his demands.
Only Scorpius followed. The guy seemed to have something pressing to say. "I'm sorry Harry, there's something I need to tell you."
Harry sighed. Draco Malfoy's son seemed incapable of leaving him alone even though, admittedly, yes, Scorpius seemed like a perfectly normal person. Perhaps the boy had been switched at birth, although they did look rather alike. But he would really appreciate even a moment solitude. "What's the matter?"
"I think I figured out who might be involved. But it's just a theory..."