Of Boys and Spells

Chapter 6: Family Affairs

-

The next morning, the carriages took them down to Hogsmeade station where the Express was waiting for them. The engine puffed white, billowing clouds into the otherwise clear sky that stretched over the rolling hills covered in lush green and, where rape-seeds grew, vivid yellow. They were going home for the summer.

The thought of having to talk to his Dad tonight crossed Albus's mind briefly but he let it glide away as they boarded the train.

He, Rose, Scorpius, Persephone, and Joseph had a compartment to themselves. Rose and he unpacked their chessmen and started playing. Joseph was chatting happily about aeroplanes – he was going to a place called Vienna this very afternoon.

By and by, the conversation turned to other topics – from the architectural eccentricities of Vienna to legends about the river Danube, later to the famous dragon reservation in Romania, and from dragons to more domestic animals like Crups and Kneazles, and then to names for them. Talking about names brought yet another matter up.

"We had a whole year to decide on a nickname for you, Scorpius," Persephone mused aloud, "and we didn't manage."

"Do I need one?" Scorpius asked, frowning.

"Scorpius sort of sounds as if you were one of those dangerous insects," she said.

"Yes, you are much too nice to be a scorpius," Joseph joined in.

"Scorpion," Persephone corrected; Joseph gave her a smile.

"Exactly," Scorpius said. "It's Scorpius, not scorpion. It's a constellation. So there is no need to think I'm poisonous or something."

"Anyway, what about Scor?" Persephone asked.

"Score?" Scorpius echoed. "Like in orchestra score?"

They laughed.

"Is there a nickname you would like, Scor?" Persephone asked between giggles.

"Not that I know of. By the way, what's your Dad's name? Robert?"

Startled, Albus looked up from the chessboard. An off-the-wall question like this was bound to ignite Persephone's interest. What did Scorpius think he would be telling her – putting Robert Ackerley under an Imperius Curse saved my Dad from going to Azkaban?

"My Dad's name is Stewart," Persephone answered, puzzled. "Uncle Robert is his younger brother. Why d'you ask that?"

"I... er... read about a Robert Ackerley somewhere," Scorpius said. He sounded by far less casual than he probably wished.

Promptly, the girl sat up straight, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Really? What did they say about him?"

"He, err..." Scorpius stammered, a pink tinge appearing on his cheeks, "he got detention. For wandering around after curf-"

"Honestly, could you drop that?" Albus cut across him. He glanced at Rose, silently begging for support. "We're on holidays. I object to the subject of detention."

"Check," Rose said.

Momentarily perplexed, Albus gaped at the board. Rose's pieces had cornered his king. The rest of his men looked about nervously.

Joseph and Persephone leaned in to inspect the situation.

"Let the king move backwards," Joseph suggested.

"No good," Persephone said quietly. "There's Rose's bishop waiting. How cunning..."

Scorpius, crouching on the floor next to the seat where the chessboard stood, said, "Let your castle move in between."

"I'll lose it," Albus protested.

"Maybe, but capturing your castle would leave Rose's queen exposed."

"What?" Rose gasped. "Oh... it seems I overlooked that knight altogether..."

That was the moment when Albus realised that she had messed up on purpose. Fortunately, he was spared having to fake glee because Tim Warbeck dropped in just then to wish them great holidays.

Tim was followed by Ireen and Pia. After them, a succession of other boys and girls popped in to say good-bye for the summer. Most of them stayed for a brief, friendly chat; Aidan and Cedric prattled on about the Magpies for nearly half an hour before they left. When they did, Nancy Donovan came in on her own. She seemed still to be a little under par. Above and beyond that, she looked apprehensive.

"I... I'd like to apologise," she said, glancing at Rose. With a timid look in Scorpius's direction, she added, "And to say thank you."

"You don't have to apologise. Nothing that happened was your fault," Rose said firmly. She collected her chessmen – disregarding their protest – from the board and gestured for Albus to do the same. "Please, Nancy, sit down."

More confused than delighted, Nancy drew a bit nearer. "Thank you," she said again.

"You're welcome. Just don't make a fuss about it," Albus said, and Scorpius nodded to every word, "because Mr Thomas had us promise to keep our mouths shut."

"He had me promise, too," Nancy said.

"Okay, then that is settled," Scorpius said. "Perhaps it's us who should apologise, anyway, because we actually believed you would do such things."

Nancy blushed. "Surely, you don't have... You got into a lot of trouble because of me. You had to serve detention. You lost house points. I don't see why the teachers didn't give points back to Ravenclaw, too."

"Because," Albus said, and he was convinced in his heart of hearts that, next time, he would again value friendship more than house points, and that no amount of points could ever outweigh a girl's life, "the teachers figure that, unlike you, Scorpius and I knew what we were doing."

"I do know what I was doing," Nancy said ever so softly. "I do know it now."

There was silence. Albus caught himself staring at the freckled Hufflepuff girl and looked away quickly.

"How does-" Scorpius broke off to clear his throat since the words came out as a mere croak. "How does the curse work?"

"You'll probably think that this sounds completely weird but it was the most heavenly feeling," Nancy said, sitting down hesitantly. " I just... it was like gliding, like drifting along without the slightest care. All thought was wiped away, and my mind was completely empty – empty except for a voice that told me what to do. It didn't matter to me what I was doing – not in the least – because I felt perfectly happy... And now, I feel totally wretched. I'm so ashamed. All these shocking things I did..."

"Don't blame yourself," Rose said, gently touching Nancy's hand. "Most adults aren't capable of fighting off an Imperius Curse. So why should a first year student be able to?"

Nancy tried to smile.

"I bet you hadn't even heard about Imperius Curses before," Joseph said. "Your parents aren't wizarding folks. Mine aren't eider, and I didn't know a d-thing about Unforgivables."

Nancy finally managed a small smile.

While the others had been talking, Persephone had fished a deck of self-shuffling cards out of her bag. Now she held it out to the Hufflepuff girl.

"You deal," she simply said.

Nancy, rather bewildered, took the deck. Joseph started explaining rules – which turned out to be not necessary. Nancy knew his favourite card game, if by an English name.

-

When Nancy left, the train had reached the outskirts of London.

Soon after – they were less than ten minutes away from King's Cross – Victoire appeared. She looked stunningly gorgeous, although she had her hair simply pulled back into a ponytail today. Its still mauve hue went nicely with the flowery design of the Muggle dress she was wearing.

"Rose, Al, we've to hurry up," she announced. "I've just got an owl. Grandma Weasley is throwing a party and expects everybody to attend."

"A party?" Rose asked. "Just like that?"

"It's supposed to be a surprise. But," Victoire smiled a conspirator's smile, "since Teddy also owled me I happen to know. Our dear Uncle Percy very quietly got a divorce in January. He married again in March and kept that a secret until two weeks ago when his new wife gave birth to a boy. Teddy doesn't know how Grandma Weasley found out, but find out she did. And tonight, we're going to celebrate Xavier Peregrinus Weasley. That's it."

She dashed off to deliver the news to their other cousins.

Albus felt completely dumbstruck. Divorce, marriage, and childbirth within six months and – above all! – behind Grandma Weasley's back. Uncle Percy must have been using really advanced magic...

"Well, at least now I know why Marianne has been avoiding us for the past months," Rose said, getting up to gather her belongings.

She was almost knocked down by James and Jean-Paul, who burst into the compartment like a flying squad of Aurors raiding a den of dragon egg smugglers. Jean-Paul collected Rose's luggage; James tugged – swearing profusely – at Albus's trunk, which was stuck for some inexplicable reason. Persephone, protesting loudly, clutched the cage of her owl lest it got overturned, Joseph eagerly offered advice as to how getting the trunk out, and Albus tried to make apologies for his brother and cousin's behaviour. Nobody listened to anyone. Only when Rose grabbed James by his collar and yelled at him to stop, the hubbub died down.

"Just lay off, will you?" she said furiously. "We can't rush ahead anyway!"

James faltered. "Why not?"

"Because Sepho can't cross the enchanted barrier without help! It doesn't open when you approach tentatively – it doesn't matter whether that's because you are afraid or because you can't walk properly."

"Calm down, Rosie," Jean-Paul said. "Her parents will take care of her."

"They never get anywhere on time," Persephone chimed in. "Chances are ninety-nine to one that they will be late fetching me."

Jean-Paul looked at James for further directions but, for once, James seemed at a loss for a quick solution.

"Don't worry," Scorpius said into the relative silence. Only the owl kept on hooting. "I know a fail-proof method to get someone through the enchanted barrier who can't walk through on her own."

"You do?" James wondered. "How?"

"I thought you were in a hurry," Scorpius muttered, slipping past James to talk to Persephone directly. "It works," he assured her. "Trust me. I didn't just watch how it was done, I helped doing it."

"The trick is that the person faces backwards and doesn't see the wall coming," Rose fell in with him. "My Dad used to carry my brother through this way. All babies are probably carried like this. But, Sepho, you weigh more than a baby, and there are also three trolleys to push-"

"We can sort dat out, Rose. No problem," Joseph, who had finally wrenched the trunk free, said with absolute confidence. He gave her a brief hug. "Get going before your cousins suffer a nervous breakdown."

"There's a good man," Jean-Paul said appreciatively and slapped Joseph on the back. James was already shoving the trunks out into the corridor.

Albus shook hands with Joseph and promised for the seventy-fifth time to write, he gave Persephone a quick embrace, and then he held Scorpius's hand before they both, after a moment's hesitation, let go and hugged instead.

"Honestly now, Al," he heard his brother complaining from the door. "Be done snogging your buddy and come!"

"Ever the pain in the neck," Albus mouthed so only Scorpius could understand.

Scorpius smothered a grin. "Take care, Al," he said.

"You too," Albus said, retreating to the door. "See you in September."

Out in the corridor, Albus flashed a wide grin at his older brother. "You spit such baloney again," he said evenly, "and I'll be sure to stuff your precious Eaglewing 44 down your throat."

The ear-splitting screeching of iron wheels slithering along iron rails as the train came slowly to a halt swallowed James's retort.

"Exactly," Jean-Paul said when the noise had sufficiently subsided. "I think we all had better prolong our silence about little Malfoy. Rosie's Dad is bound to hit the roof once he learns how chummy she is with this boy. I, for my part, don't want that to happen tonight because Grandma Weasley's garden doesn't have a roof, and the trouble shooters might have to scrape the scattered bits of our poor Uncle Ron off the surface of the moon or something."

They were among the first to jump onto the platform. They grabbed trolleys, piled their luggage onto them, and swiftly made their way out into the Muggle station. Their parents were just entering it from the other side.

They hurried towards each other, and Albus flew into his Mum's arms before she had the chance to ask him what had happened to his hair. When she finally did – after bestowing the due amount of motherly caresses on him – Rose engaged her and her own mother instantaneously in a scientific conversation about Lingering Hexes. Uncle Ron rolled his eyes in the exaggerated way that was so typical for him.

Since his Dad was busy hugging James, Albus turned back to watch his friends emerge from the enchanted barrier. Persephone was perched on top of Scorpius's trolley, sitting back to front. Joseph had trouble steering because his trolley was laden with twice the normal amount of luggage. Two adults hastened towards him. The man, tall and broad-shouldered, had to be Joseph's father. He caught hold of the erratic trolley and brought it under control while Mrs Gerstlmeier proceeded to douse her unresisting son with a whole shower of kisses. Another woman, slightly plump and dressed in neat Muggle clothes, approached Scorpius. They hugged each other with visible joy.

"I see you weren't the only one who got a fashionable hair colour," Albus suddenly heard – his Dad was looking to where some excessive handshaking was now going on as Scorpius and Joseph did a round of introductions.

"Yeah," Albus laughed while his father pulled him into an embrace. "Violet is all the rage these days."

When his father let go of him, Albus caught a glimpse of Mrs Malfoy helping Persephone to climb down from one trolley and onto the other, which now held only the girl's luggage. The Gerstlmeiers were already exiting the station.

"Let's go!" Uncle Ron commanded. "Grandma Weasley is waiting."

-

It was a feast, and no mistake. The long table almost collapsed under the weight of the food Grandma Weasley had prepared – mutton and roast chicken, French beans with bacon, smoked salmon and baked trout, pastries and puddings, salads, apple pie, and cream puffs. The trees were adorned with garlands, and brightly coloured lanterns floated in the air. And everyone was there or, more precisely, everyone save Marianne and her mother.

For most of the time, Uncle Percy's new wife and baby were the centre of attention. Albus didn't mind. It meant fewer questions about his hair. He ate until he couldn't possibly swallow any more.

Later, he sat with Uncle Charlie, listening to fantastic stories about wild creatures. All around, the party went on in the ordinary manner of Weasley gatherings. Hugo and Lily were incessantly beleaguering Uncle George; James climbed into a tree and, in the process, accidentally – or perhaps not so accidentally – dropped one of the lanterns onto Uncle Percy's head. Charlie's youngest son broke Grandma Weasley's favourite bowl, and Teddy mended it with a nifty spell before she had the opportunity to notice anything. Uncle Ron and some others engaged in a game of Muggle football – or in something they believed to be Muggle football; there were too many balls involved. Albus's Mum and Dad, Aunt Hermione, Granddad Weasley, and Uncle Bill sat at one end of the table drinking Butterbeer and discussing politics. At the other end sat the girls, sipping pumpkin juice and giggling. Grandma Weasley chatted with Auntie Andromeda. Andromeda Tonks wasn't strictly family. She and her grandson Teddy had been sort of adopted because they'd lost their own family in the war.

The war.

All adults gathered here in his grandparents' garden had experienced the war. Albus knew this. He'd always known and yet, the true meaning that was encompassed by the two words still seemed to elude him. Monique Vallon's book had given him the first clue that war didn't entirely consist of heroic deeds. On the contrary, heroic deeds were rare exceptions and probably rather triggered by despair than by gallantry. War meant fear and pain and loss and guilt. War meant cruelty and death.

And afterwards, people had to live with their terrible memories, or their remorse, or both. Things weren't necessarily black and white – there were also the so-called shades of grey.

How would his family react if he invited Scorpius? Would they welcome him as warmly as they did with James's friends and those of his cousins? Or would they meet him with a cold, formal politeness? Or would they, even worse, downright forbid Scorpius Malfoy ever to cross their threshold?

Albus couldn't figure out an answer as he looked up and down the table. There was no simple yes or no, there were shades of maybe.

By coincidence, Albus's eyes met Uncle George's. The man threw him a big grin and called across the table, "How's things, Albus?"

Stirred so unexpectedly out of his musings, Albus struggled to find a reply.

"Don't worry. We'll get used to Ravenclaw," Uncle George went on, still grinning while Hugo tugged at the man's robes with all his might. "This brother of mine, the utter prat, just married a Ravenclaw. We'll get used to it. Could have been worse-"

Hugo had succeeded in hoisting himself onto the uncle's lap. In the uncompromising manner of little children, he demanded to be entertained. Uncle George complied, abandoning the conversation with Albus as abruptly as he had started it.

George was the only one of Albus's uncles who wasn't married and had no children. He made a living by selling self-made potions and a variety of curious toys he'd invented together with his twin brother a long time ago. Albus knew him for a cheerful person, although all the adults claimed Uncle George had never become his former self again after the death of his twin. How can he when fifty percent of his self is gone? – This was a comment Neville had once made.

And here, Albus was right back to the war: The legendary Uncle Fred had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. The thought of people fighting in the Great Hall disturbed Albus. Grandma Weasley had killed Scorpius's evil great-aunt there.

He got up and walked over to his father. He sat down, leaning against the man's shoulder.

His Dad put an arm around him.

"Sleepy?" he asked.

"Hm-mm," Albus mumbled. He waited for the more difficult questions. When they didn't come, he snuggled still closer to his father, enjoying the warmth. He felt safe and comfy, and, gradually, the voices around him became a soft, distant hum.

-

Albus sat up in bed. For a moment, he gaped at the large poster of a Norwegian Ridgeback on the opposite wall. Then, realisation set in.

He was at home, in Godric's Hollow, and judging from the angle at which the sun shone into his room, he'd overslept by at least an hour.

He had a fuzzy recollection of saying goodnight to his grandparents, but he couldn't remember the car ride.

Oh, James was so going to tease him because of this...

He got up and went to the bathroom. Just when he reached for the handle, the door was opened from the other side. His father stood there, looking distinctly rumpled and wearing only pyjama trousers.

"Morning Albus. Fancy breakfast?"

"Morning Dad... Don't you have to go to work?"

"Despite your Mum's propaganda, I don't work every Saturday," his Dad laughed. "Especially not when my sons have just returned from school."

Albus laughed, too. Of course, it was weekend.

"Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen," his Dad said and walked off.

-

Lovely smells of frying bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen. However, the table wasn't yet laid. Only a small, translucent flask sat in the middle. Albus recognised it at once.

His Dad looked up from making scrambled eggs, gestured with the fish slice towards the little bottle, and asked, "Do you know what this is?"

Albus moved a bit closer.

"It says 'Veritaserum' on the label," he answered carefully.

"And do you know whose handwriting it is?"

"Er... no."

"Your namesake, Professor Severus Snape's," his Dad said over his shoulder. "I understand you put the potion to good use."

So, it was time to face the music.

Albus took a deep breath and said, "We wanted to help, Dad. We thought Nancy Donovan would die if somebody didn't find out really soon what curse Yaxley had put on her. First, we read about the correct dosage, and about side effects... and stuff, and then, I asked James to be our back-up because he can cast Stunners and-"

He paused as, all of a sudden, running footsteps sounded from upstairs. There was an angry shout from James, followed by Lily's triumphant laughter.

"Dad, please, don't be mad," Albus hurriedly went on. It couldn't be long now before either of his siblings came rushing in here. "I know we did something risky. But we had to do it anyway, and we were not reckless about it."

His father took the frying pan off the cooker and turned round.

"In that case, son, I wonder what your definition of reckless is," he said.

A series of joyful shrieks from Lily drifted down from above while Albus was searching for a way to define the word. "Well, reckless would have been... if we had given him half a gill of Truth Serum."

"I see," his father said quietly. The commotion upstairs seemed to be subsiding.

"Are you mad with me?"

His Dad went round the table and pulled Albus into a perfectly unexpected embrace. His voice sounded rather stern, though.

"I probably should be. I probably should lecture you that you mustn't put your best friends in danger. That you oughtn't to tackle seventh-year students, above all not exceptionally wicked ones who are capable of casting Unforgivables. I should tell you that you aren't to meddle with what is clearly the business of grown-ups, of teachers and Aurors. This would probably be my responsibility as I am your father and as I love you and want you to be safe and sound and unharmed. But, quite honestly, I would feel like a bloody hypocrite if I did."

-

Author's notes:

#1 Thanks to duj and her friend Withehound for helping me to find the correct word for a certain kitchen tool. The thing designed for lifting food and turning it over is called a fish slice in British English.

#2 I'm planning on writing another sequel. It will be about the parents's reaction when they finally learn whoom their children have befriended.