The Forbidden Four: Year One

Chapter Twenty-Four - 100% A Code Red

Chapter Twenty-Four - 100% A Code Red

     There were many things Castor expected — and didn't expect — from life. He expected to be ignored whenever he left Hogwarts for The Malfoy Manor. He expected Draco to complain to him about all his problems. He expected to be given the cold-shoulder when Pancy was being pissy. He expected to die before he turned seventeen. He expected to see Dobby's pillowcase laying worn and rumpled across the floor when Lucius decided to leave him cold for the night.

He did not expect to be ambushed by Harry "I'm the golden prodigy" Potter on a breezy, Tuesday afternoon.

     When he got off the train yesterday morning, he had headed straight to the Slytherin Common Room. He had ignored every small glance that was passed his way and the small hum of chatter. He had ignored the attempts that Crabby and Goyle made to speak to him in hushed tones. And he had ignored the way Draco slammed his trunk down at the end of the bed at 3:00 AM.

So why was it so damn hard to ignore a raging boy who had no business throwing a fit when — last he checked — he had done nothing wrong?

     There wasn't anything particularly special about Harry Potter. Castor had noted this the moment he set his eyes on him. From every story Lucius told of the "boy who lived" with an ugly sneer on his face, Castor expected Harry to be unique. To be special. There was nothing special about the boy who blubbered when he bumped into him in Florish & Blotts, and there was nothing special about the one in front of him now. Fuming and nearly foaming from the mouth. There was no bright smile. There was no chilling gaze — not like Lucius'. Not like Castor's. There was no echo of fear that filled his chest when he saw him. There was no warmth of safety either. He was just a boy. An unfortunate, unlucky, famous boy. But still just a boy.

A very angry boy.

     It seemed as if anger was one of the only settings he had on him — besides maybe insufferable cockiness and unbearable annoyance — and Castor desperately wished to find an off button.

So when Draco had looked up from his slice of Pumpkin Pie and stared at something behind him, Castor had no choice but to pull himself away from his book and turn around as well.

     And then he was grabbed and practically lifted off his feet.

Not by Potter — oh, no. A boy that skinny could barely lift his broom to fly with. He was lifted up by Goyle. Pudgy Goyle who sneered at Potter as he approached. Like he was the Devil incarnate. "What do you want, Potter?" Draco spat with a glare.

     Castor narrowed his eyes at the hand squeezing his small upper arm and then trailed his eyes to Goyle's face, catching his muddy brown orbs in his silver ones. He ripped his arm from his grip. "Don't touch me."

"Castor, what do you know about Snape?" Harry chose to ignore Draco. Castor had to admit, the look on his cousin's face brought a little jolt of amusement to his heart, but it was smothered in an instant when he was reminded that Potter was the one who caused it. Ew, he thought as he took him in.

     "He's our potions teacher, he's a jerk, he's a bully, and he complains a lot." Castor deadpanned.

     Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, thank you so much, Captain Obvious. You got anything useful or are you just gonna point out the obvious all day?"

"I'd rather eat glass than talk to you at all, much less all day."

     Harry's eye twitched. Castor felt satisfied.