The Chaser [sequel to The Mudblood]

Chapter 5: Year 1

Down in the Gargoyle Corridor, Scorpius had one elbow propped against the wall, probably trying to emulate a supermodel, while Rose completely ignored his existence. I didn't say a word to either of them, even when they inquired about Albus.

I did not want to talk about Albus.

Hugging my own torso, I hurried back to the Slytherin dungeons alone, a sense of foreboding wriggling through my mind. Something was fundamentally wrong with Albus Potter. I couldn't conceive why or how, given his kind and supportive family, but that boy had dark, dark energy.

Part of me wished Scorpius had been there to witness the meltdown, because he could've made it funny. Or, at the very least, he could've been scared shitless with me. No one would believe me if I told them Albus wanted to rain terror on the Sorting Hat. It was too absurd.

Over the next few days, I kept my distance from Albus, which became increasingly difficult since he gave up on joining his Gryffindor family members for meals. He sat sullenly amongst the first year Slytherins, barely eating, dejectedly accepting his fate.

Britney tried to include him in group games, like Hogwarts trivia, but none of us wanted to participate, so it didn't coax Albus into talking. Jewel turned every game into an excuse to ramble about history, and Duncan turned anything Britney said or did into an excuse to hurl insults at her. I searched the library for ways to poison him, to no avail.

According to Scorpius's romance update that I did not ask for, he and Rose had talked for a solid minute while Albus and I raided the Headmistress's office. He told her that her hair was prettier than a rose, and she told him to shut up and remain vigilant. Sounded like less than a minute to me, but I didn't care to argue semantics, nor did I care to hear about his love life at all.

What I really cared about was my journal, but I didn't have the guts to ask Albus for it. I considered making a deal with James and Fred, but I didn't want them to remember the last deal I hadn't consented to. I had no plans of feeding the Slytherins Dancing Donuts simply to prevent the Gryffindor boys from tattling on me.

The morning after our failed heist, McGongall had reminded the students her office was only open by appointment, though she hadn't looked directly at any of us. I had to hope she wouldn't discover the trespassers' identities as long as James and Fred kept their big mouths shut.

By the end of Tuesday, Professor Pearson brewed a potion to alleviate the boys of their forehead-brows, and by the end of Wednesday I'd grown accustomed to the massive amounts of homework, as well as sharing a living space with an endless talker (Britney) and someone who left their clothes all over the place (Leah).

Thursday was when things spiraled into misery.

I'd never cared much about my birthday. The only gift I wanted was solitude, and birthdays didn't give that. It was the only day of the year Dad hugged me, which we both found awkward, and it was another opportunity for Mum to manipulate my life in predictable and uncreative ways.

From the moment I sat in the Great Hall for breakfast, I dreaded the moment our humungous family owl, King, would burst into the room. I scarfed down my porridge as quickly as possible, planning to flee the moment the letter landed in my hands, but then good old Duncan plopped into the seat across from me, a devious grin on his face.

"Good morning," he greeted. Neither Mose nor Jewel chimed in, each greedily gathering food onto their plates, which meant they didn't know about the dire nature of this day. Yet.

Britney lightly back-handed me on the shoulder as she sat next to me. "Would you look at that, Alvie? Your cousin's being kind! We're making progress."

"How much did you pay him?" Leah asked as she chomped on toast. When she noticed me watching, she took daintier bites, cheeks reddening.