Al happily trudged the halls, a small smile on his face, humming a favourite tune. He strutted the corridor while heads turned to look at the 'happier' Albus Potter. Apparently, some people even think that someone had spiked his pumpkin juice this morning.
He had the perfect plan.
McGonagall had talked to him afterwards, and she was quite surprised that he responded quite calmly. He had told her that his father had wanted him to come home for awhile to be there for Ginny. McGonagall, knowing how much Harry had cared for his wife seemed to believe it. (or was she simply playing on with Al?)
He was going to owl his parents that he needed to 'go way' for awhile and had volunteered for the "Scottish Bow-Leg Conservation Efforts". He had even told them to keep him posted about information reagarding James while he's away volunteering his time for the welfare of the disappearing Scottish dragons, though actually, unbeknownst to them, he was looking for James instead.
"You seem to be in the happier side today..." interuppted Nathaniel Thomas, looking peculiarly at Al. "You're brother doesn't seem to be pulling pranks today, isn't he?"
Observation no. 89, 10:00 am. Was James really that prolific? Everybody seesm to be noticing the lack of chaos.
"Ah."
"Is that why you're happy?" Nat asked, raising an eybrow. "Him being...let's put it this way, being out of your way?"
Excuse me? Absolutely not! He would rather have James causing havoc rather than getting eaten by beasts somewhere, really! He would rather have him smiling mischievously at some prank than crying for mercy at a giant's cave!
"Of course not!" he answered incredulously, slightly clenching his fists. "In my way?"
"Okay, okay!" said Nat, making a gesture for him to calm down. "No need to break your heart about it!"
Al rolled his eyes, and shook his head in annoyance. Does he seem THAT uncaring to James? What was wrong with the world?!
"Anyway, would you please take care of Narcissus for awhile..." he requested, referring to his snowy owl. "I have to come home for awhile, you know, family business. My grandparents will be coming home from Czechoslovakia."
"Grandparents?" Nat questioned, looking weirdly at him. "That's funny. My Nan just met up with yours yesterday and she even said that she hadn't left England for the past few months and would fancy quite a trip. Which is why they're planning one, really."
Oh bugger.
His brain wasn't functioning to its full potential because of the dead lack of sleep. This interrogation was making him quite drowsy now...
"Uh, my grandparents from the paternal side?"
Bananas. That was basically dumb, and nothing else.
He should consider wagging for awhile, he needs to sleep.
"Uh, Al aren't they dead?"
Oh really? They are? He didn't notice!
He was starting to panic and the bad thing was, Nathaniel was born to sniff out secrets, but not to keep them.
But what was he supposed to say?? Er, uncallingly fall on the floor...um, what about memeory charms?
BINGO!
"I was kidding, Nat. Just giving you the old scare!" Al saved, giving Nat a 'I-wasn't-living-under-a-rock-for-the-past-ten-years-if -you-aren't-aware-of-that look'. "I was talking about Auntie Fleur's parents. Mum wants us to call them as our grandparents. French tradition, really."
He was hoping that his voice wasn't quivering.
"I see..." replied Nat, half-convinced.
"No, really." he defended, trying to remember what Victoire usually says when her grandparents were visiting. "Grand-mère et grand-père bienvenus! Comment allez-vous?"
Nat laughed at his French and Al was glad he seemed quite convinced now.
He couldn't help but give a gein.
"I need to pay a visit to the library..." he notified, but what he was really going to do was to prepare for departure.
"All right then, mate." Nat smiled giving him a slap on the back, "Catch you later!"
Al beamed as he recalled his quick save. There was more of a suave troublemaker in him after all. And a simplified definition: a Marauder.
James sat on the stone balcony, watching the sun rise in perfect aura. He had feasted on a perfect breakfast. The chilly yet lovely morning breeze kissed his weary face, contrasting to the unfriendly storm that pushed him off his feet hours ago. A lot of things, if neither all nor most, were well.
Surprisingly, his stay at Malfoy Manor had been quite welcoming really, along with being blessed with pleasant company.
"So...Slinky?" he addressed the house elf that sat beside him. It gave him a toothy grin."May I ask you a quite, um...uh-what's the word...ah, yes, personal question?" he paused for a moment. "Hopefully, it's not very invasive."
He swallowed hopefully. He suddenly found himself asking about others' fathers to stitch up the wound caused by his own. Why exactly? The mind always worked in such a complex way there is not a suitable answer to properly explain its marvels.
"Anything, Sir! Anything!" the house elf squeaked happily, tapping its toes on stone.
James couldn't help but give a grin.
But then, he had to face the awkward state of asking.
"Um...are you quite...close, I meant, in good, gah, forget it! What I meant to say, is that if, are you kind of...close with your father?" he stammered, regretting opening such an uncomfortable subject.
He could've just shut his mouth, and let all the anger, frustration, and yearning smother his insides until it just became a slab of cholesterol enough to give a heart attack to end his life. Whoopee.
The house elf, much to his relief, did not seem abashed in anyway.
Now, a fresh stab of longing pierced through him again. Words could not explain the pain he felt, no simple words can express wounds that are far too deep for explanations to fathom. Then again, marvels of the mind cannot be answered in plain answers.
Pain and hurt were unexplainable phenomenon, and so is love.
After all, the mind and the human emotion are too complex for one person to fathom alone.
"Slinky never met his father, sir!" his thoughts were interrupted by the elf's enthusiastic answer. "Yet Slinky presumes he was a good fellow!"
"Oh..." he whispered, as he felt a sudden affection for the houself. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Slinky gave him a grin.
"Slinky needs to get back to work now, Sir!" the elf squeaked happily. "Thanks for the pleasant company, sir!"
James gave him a smile.
"Thanks for it too, Slinky."
He had to give him something, a small token of his appreciation. He felt as if Scott and Fred were smashed up and shoved in to fit the little body as he had greatly enjoyed his companionship. He dug deep into his pockets, getting out an iron button, with the Gryffindor crest engraved on it. It had been dear to him before, but as he knew the other part may have long forgotten it, he didn't need it anymore.
"Oh and Slinky?" he called, throwing the button for the house elf to catch. "Keep it, as a token."
The house elf smiled at him, before coming closer as if to whisper something.
"Master James cares for you, sir." the house elf whispered touching the left part of his chest. "Along with the pretty Mistress!"
James was too confused and dumbfounded to say anything. Was the house elf playing with him?
"Wait, what?"
The house elf just smiled at him knowingly as if he knew something that James didn't.
He probably just ate too much...or the air last night just jumbled his brain up to mulch.
He looked back at the horizon and sighed. His ebony hair all tumbled up in a windy mess. He cocked his head to the side. It was going to be a long day.
It was nearly midnight, and he was ready to leave. He had promised McGonagall a last patrol before he left for 'home'. He still wasn't sure if McGonagall had fallen for his plan, or if she's really playing on with it.
He was going by broom, as he was thankful that the conditions for the night were way better than the night before. Every inch of the sky was specked with starry wonders, illuminating the heavens with their wondrous radiance. The lake shimmered beneath them.
Al smiled appreciatively, as a slight breeze touched his skin.
He noticed a tiny but brilliant star that blazed in the sky.
He gave a small chuckle. A part of him knew that he'd see one of those again, for some reason.
He hopped on to his broom, skidded the starry skies, searching for a lost brother.
Hmmm, I'm not sure what to think of this chapter. It didn't have the explanation yet since I didn't want it to be vague like the last chapter. I would really like to get my act back up, and I need inspiration! So please review!
A simple banner, nothing elaborate, was made for the story featuring Tom Sturridge. His ebony hair is just utterly 'potter-ish', I think. Go check it out! The link is on my homepage! An aid to help visualize James. Haha.
REVIEW!!!