Chapter Eight: Troubled Days

POV: Albus and James

"I take it back," Lucas groaned from beneath a tree overlooking the Black Lake. He stretched his limbs out, the plush grass shaping around him. He kicked his school books, uncaring that his inkpot rolled down into a puddle of mud. "I hate Hogwarts. They're trying to kill us."

Rose (who had already made her acquaintance with Lucas Zabini in our first Charms class) rolled her eyes at him when she blinked away from her Potions book. "What'd you think Hogwarts was going to be? An endless supply of adventure and Pumpkin Juice? We're at school!"

Lucas turned over, raising an eyebrow at her. "You've got Pumpkin Juice in that big bag of yours?"

Rose glared at him just as Nia said, "Not everyone is equipped to handle this workload. We all aren't Hermione Granger's daughter, you know?"

"She's right," I said. "Aunt Hermione passed on all of her love and patience for knowledge to you. I just  hope Hugo got a shred of it or he's going to hate it here when it's his turn to come to Hogwarts."

"I didn't inherit anything," Rose told us in her best firm voice. "I am not my mother. It is all about determination."

"Of course you aren't Aunt Hermione," I scoffed. "If you were, you'd be pulling my ear for skipping pebbles, hoping the mere-people come out for a quick chat, rather than working on that blasted Transfiguration essay. "

Her brown eyes narrowed as the sun beamed down on her red hair. She might have gotten a lot from her mother, but in that moment she looked like mine. I swore she had Ginny Weasley's ire in her gaze. "I think I'll just do that, too."

"The good thing about this....Oh, wait," Lucas said, glaring at the sky, "there is no good part about this."

Scorpius threw his Transfiguration textbook by his feet. Twenty minutes ago he looked to be on the verge of pulling out his blonde hair—nothing had changed since then, actually. "To think we have six more years of this."

"Six years? Really?" I returned, watching my pebble cause a ripple on the lake. "Aren't we barely on our second month?" I looked over at them, grinning. Lucas looked terrified, raising fingers to count. "That's roughly three-hundred weeks to go."

"Three-hundred?" Lucas exclaimed.

"Don't forget the estimated four years of university to specialize in your field after the seven years at Hogwarts are completed," Rose reminded.

Scorpius mumbled curses.

"Why are you complaining?" Nia narrowed her blue eyes at my fellow Slytherin, her beautiful face pulling into a frown. "You can quit and still have a hefty inheritance to fall back on."

Lucas and I snickered (because we were still reeling about the authentic silk sheets Mrs. Malfoy had sent Scorpius for his bed), but Rose did not find Nia's comment funny. She shut her Potions book with much more force than was required. 

"Don't say that. You don't know him."

"And you do?" Nia returned with a scoff.

"Let her," Scorpius said flatly, not bothering to meet Rose or Nia's eyes when he stared off to the Black Lake. "Harper can think whatever she wants to because her opinion about me and my family is already set. She hates me, that's that."

Honestly, I expected Nia to laugh or come up with a brilliant zinger, but instead flashes of outrage started flickering across those dazzling eyes of hers. It took her a moment to find her words before she said, "I don't hate you, Malfoy."

Scorpius did turn now, brow raised, but nothing further could be said on the matter when Liam was yelling our names. We turned to the sound; he was running at full speed, school books and bag falling in his path to us. 

"Oh, God," Nia sighed, standing from her place beneath the tree. "Who's trying to kill him now?"

Stopping inches from us, Liam heaved desperately through his nostrils. We watched him for a few seconds until he exhaled, "WE—HAVE—A—PROBLEM!"

Scorpius huffed, shaking his head, but stood to approach his cousin. "Did you piss off Peeves again? Mate, I told you—"

"NO—JAMES!" Liam interrupted, still gasping for air. 

A frown settled over my features. "What did the numpty do to you?" I demanded. "I swear, he's been pushing my patience—"

"James!" Liam hissed. "Flint! Macnair! Emily—Merlin, Emily!"

I reached over for his robes, yanking on them. "I swear to Merlin, Greengrass, I will turn you into a tea cozy if you don't start making sense right now!"

Nia pushed me a step back. "Lay off," she hissed. "He's trying!"

Liam nodded furiously at me, eyes terrified. He took in a deep breath, a lot more settled now, and then said, "I was in the library with Emily, we were looking for books for the Potions essay Professor Rickman assigned us, when we were corned by Marcus Macnair and Vincent Flint. They started pushing me—"

"What, why?" Nia demanded. "You don't even know them!"

Liam rolled his eyes at her.  "Yeah, well, I doubt they cared about that when they were slamming me against the corridor wall!"

"Where does James come into this?" I shook him again as he was distracting himself.

Liam's frustration died down for sadness to take over. "I was being tossed around like a quaffle because my dearest cousins asked Flint and Macnair to teach me a lesson after the boil thing. That's when James came in. He told them to piss off and...well, they didn't like a Second Year mouthing off at them so they hit him."

"Oh, Godric," I exhaled. "He's dead, isn't he?"

A sharp smack landed on the back of my head. 

"Shut up, Albus," Rose said to me. "Don't even say that! James is fine. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah," Liam mumbled, "he is. Louis came right on time and helped James take them on. They were winning—you should've seen it, those two are good at hexes for twelve year olds. But then Macnair played foul! He shot an Unforgivable in James' direction, but...it all happened so fast. Emily was on the floor by the time I realized what happened." 

Gasps broke out around my group of friends.

"She was screaming like she was being murdered," Liam rasped out, eyes full of tears. "I can never unhear it."

Scorpius did not wait another second before he bolted for the castle.

 X

Louis was glaring at his arm, disgust in his blue eyes. "I can't believe that beast bit me," he said to me, dabbing a thick, yellow paste on the crescent wound on his white skin. "I'm pretty sure he has rabies."

I knew he was talking to me, but I could hardly process the words he was saying. It was all muffled sound in my ears. It was all distorted noise that ended up sounding like that horrific scream that continued to claw at me. It hurt worse than the scrapes and bruises Macnair and Flint gave me. 

I turned away from Louis, back to the First Year girl on the hospital bed. She was motionless. 

"Do you think she's gonna be okay?" I muttered.

Louis let out a curse before saying, "Yeah, mate. She will. Madam Pomfrey said so. A bit shaken, but there's nothing a few days in bed can't fix."

"A few days in bed can't fix this," I told him, no real anger behind the words even if I felt it bubble beneath my skin. The guilt was too thick. "I can't believe she took the curse for me."

"To be fair," Louis said, "she didn't take it on purpose. She was trying to push you out of the way and was accidentally hit."

My eyes stung when the scream echoed in my eardrums again. "It's still my fault."

"No," Louis said roughly, "it isn't. None of it is. Macnair and Flint are both demons by birth. How exactly is that your fault?"

I leaned further into my chair, burying my face into my folded arms. "You heard what those twats said."

"I didn't really hear anything they said, mate. I was too intent on not getting butchered—or eaten alive by them."

"About Liam Greengrass," I told him, removing my arms from my face. "His own cousins sent two Seventh Years to rough him up because he's a Gryffindor—his own family did that."

Louis stretched his arm under a bright light, examining the bite mark. "It's going to scar, isn't it? Blimey, I need Mum to send me some of those anti-blemish potions she picks up from France." He looked up and saw me glaring; he rolled his eyes, but said, "This isn't about the girl, is it? You're feeling guilty about Al."

"It's about both," I confessed.

"What Abel and Darren Greengrass did is bloody awful, but you'd never do that to Al. You'd never hurt him. You're better than those two dickheads."

"I'm not!" I hissed, standing from the chair in a surge of anger. "I'm not any better than them because I didn't have someone rough up Al. I did it myself! I turned my back on my own brother because he's not what I wanted him to be! I said awful things to him—"

"Yeah, that was  shitty of you," Louis agreed. "Al isn't like you, James. Hell, he isn't like any of us if we are being honest. But neither is Rose, or Molly, or Uncle Percy, but we love them despite it."   

The sound of stampeding footsteps burst the terribly (strange) insightful moment Louis was giving me. The doors of the Hospital Wing opened, allowing a rowdy group of students to rush over to us, all wearing similar expressions of worry.

"James! Louis!" Freddie reached us first, throwing his arms around us. "You live!" 

Louis huffed at him for both of us as he shoved him back. "What'd you think, Freds? That you'd be the last of this legacy? You wish, mate."

Dominique swatted her brother on the head two times. "Are you two mental?" she hissed, narrowed, green eyes alternating between Louis and me. "Macnair and Flint could've killed you!"

Louis pulled Freddie in front of him, using him as a shield against his sister. "We were being honorable!"

"Honorable," Dominique huffed. "Idiots is what would've been written on your gravestones."

"Dom," I said, "you've broken Macnair's nose to defend a helpless little Ravenclaw before and became a legend. When we try to save someone we're foolish?"

"She's proud," said Freddie, "but Victoire told her to yell at you. She wanted to do it herself, but as Head Girl she marched over to McGonagall's office to make sure those two dickheads are punished with all the weight of the law."

Louis grinned. "So you do love me, Dom!"

"I don't," his sister scoffed. 

I turned away from the squabbling siblings to look for my own. I saw him standing beside Malfoy and Zabini. He looked taller somehow, more courageous than I've ever seen him. I suppose that happens when you are flanked by people you know would fight with every last breath for you. It's how I feel when Louis and Freddie are around me. 

It's how Al should feel when I'm near him.

I turned away from the worry in his emerald eyes and allowed Rose to wrap her arms around me.

"I hope you two are ready for what comes next," she said, still not letting go. "McGonagall is contacting your parents."

Louis choked on his own air. "Why?"

"An Unforgivable was used," Rose said as she finally pulled away to glare at Louis. "Do you just expect the Headmistress to assign detention?"

"Speaking of detention," Dominique cut in, "we better go. I admire you two, but I'm not risking another week of cleaning trophy cases while a blasted, ancient cat sniffs around."

The worry on the group's faces had died down a few levels as they moved to pat Louis and me on the back. Rose clung on to Louis, saying, "You scared us." Then she looked over at me. "I hope Aunt Ginny isn't too harsh on you. Even if you deserve it."

"Thank you for saving Liam," Nia Harper said, pulling Rose back from Louis. She turned to me, but then her gaze traveled to the only occupied hospital bed. "She'll be okay, won't she?"

I wanted to reassure her, but Greengrass cut in with, "It's all my fault. She'll hate me after this."

"It's not your fault," I said to the kid. Wasn't it enough that I felt guilty? No one else needed to join the party. "It was a horrible accident. She knows that."

Harper took Liam's hand. "Thanks again. My best friend would be worm food if it wasn't for you."

"James hardly did a thing," Louis snorted. "I'm the real hero!" 

I smiled gratefully at my cousin. Any other day, I lived for the attention and the glory, but today was not that day. I did not want to be admired for something that ended horribly wrong. 

"We better get going, too," Zabini cleared his throat from the background. His fellow First Years picked up their school books and headed for the doors.

"Apply the Essence of Murtlap Madam Pomfrey gave you," Rose added before she was dragged off.

I threw the vial she had thrust in my hands to a nearby bed. There was nothing wrong with me. I was perfectly fine. So, I'm going mental from remorse, but no potion can cure that.

"James?" I turned to find Al in the place he was originally in. This time he was by himself. Zabini had left with Rose and her new friends, but Malfoy was at the other end of the room. He was knelt beside Emily Taylor, holding one of her hands.

"Yeah?" I managed back.

"Why do you hate me?"

Louis coughed loudly at the words that left my little brother's mouth. "I'm gonna go make sure Vic hasn't made too much of a scene," he said, grabbing his own vial of Murtlap and a new clean cloth before marching out. 

I scratched the back of my head as the silence settled in the room. I felt the walls closing in. "Go to class, Albie," is what I said, adding a cough, too. "Your lessons as First Years are the most important and determine the retention—"

"Quit speaking like Aunt Hermione," he said with a snort.

I couldn't help the grin that broke out on my face. "In dire times you must always remember the smartest person in your family." He did not smile back. Blimey. "I'm the older brother; I have to set an example."

"Brilliant example you are."

I cringed. "I've always been your brother, Al."

"You stopped acting like it when you disowned me in front of the entire Great Hall."

"I didn't disown you."

"You said I wasn't your brother."

"Did I?" I laughed uneasily. I was rubbish when it came to having serious conversations (hell, I was a mess in any serious circumstance). I blamed Dad for it, really. Al inherited all of his looks, but I got his crap character traits. Because of that, speaking to another human being was a great challenge. I usually just made things worse (it's how I often ended slapped by the women in my family). I was practically classified insensitive.

Al did not have much of that problem. It was why he said, "I get that my sorting was a shock, but as my brother I expected you to support me, to be the first to congratulate me. Instead it was everyone else that told me they were proud."

"It's different," I tried to explain. "We're Potters, Albus. Potters don't get sorted into Slytherin."

"I'm not you," Al hissed, the words stabbing at me like knives on my back. "I can't be you. Don't you get that? I don't want to be like Dad. I want to be my own person."

I failed at trying to stifle my gasp. "Not like Dad?" 

When the hell did that happen? We always wanted to be like Dad. He was our hero. We've admired him since before we could walk. He was Harry Potter, for Merlin's sake. He had done phenomenal things in his lifetime—glorious things that distinguished our family from the rest. We were the Good Guys. Being his sons meant we were supposed to be extraordinary, too. That's who we are. Who we are meant to be. Right?

"I didn't stop being Al," he then said, "but I'm eleven. I can't be someone who I haven't grown into yet—or who I may never grow up to be. Neither are you."

Looking up at him, I tried to process his words. I tried to understand that I could not expect him to want the same things in life as I did. Not when we haven't left our childhood yet.

"I'm an idiot," I sighed. "I'm sorry."

This time he did grin. "It runs in the family. You're not alone."

A grunt echoed around the room. "Lovely family," said Malfoy from the side of Emily's bed.

I glared at him before turning back to my brother. "Are your friends part of our deal?"

"Of course," said Al. "Scorpius is pretty great, actually."

"Doubt it," I scoffed. 

"Listen, Potter—"

"Nick." We all turned to the hospital bed. The girl on it was squirming, crying. It made Malfoy jump up. "I'm sorry...I'm...No, don't go. Mommy...Daddy...I'm sorry. Come back. I didn't meant to...Come back."

Malfoy took Emily Taylor's hand. His silver eyes were wide with fear and concern. I could have sworn I saw tears, too, but he gave me his back, running his free hand over the girl's cheeks, wiping her own tears away.

"You're okay, Em," he whispered. "We're here—I'm here."

I remained in my place, but I wanted to reach out to her. I wanted to touch her like Malfoy was doing, to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. I wanted to tell her the pain would fade away. The thing was, I couldn't move. Her tortured sobs froze me to the core. 

Al put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. "I'm here," he murmured to me. "It's going to be okay."