Rose Weasley and The Beast of the Black Lake, year 2

Al's Obsession

"There was what?" Max asked during breakfast the next morning. He was leaning in interestedly as Al talked freely, Rose being at Quidditch practice.

"Writing, on the outside of our window, in tar probably, that's the only thing that would have lasted so long; half of it was worn away by this morning," Al summed up. "Scor here thought that it was all a spoof," he said, jabbing a thumb at Scorpius who was filling containers with breakfasts meats, eggs, toast, and muffins.

Scorpius rolled his eyes annoyedly and shoved the containers of food into a side satchel. "I didn't think it was a spoof; I just thought that it was a misunderstanding."

"I agreed with Gorpius," said Max, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "I wasn't gonna say nothing, but it did seem farfetched."

"Well now that you know it's not, are you gonna help us unravel this?" Albus asked.

"I am yours to command," Max smiled.

"Pity that we can't tell Rose, though," said Scor now trying to pack beverages. "She would probably be a big help."

"You're not going to tell her, Scor," said Al hurriedly knowing too well that Scorpius is notorious for leaking secrets.

"She will find out," said Max. Al stared at him severally. "I'm not going to tell her," he said quickly. "I wish I could, but I already promised I wouldn't. But come on, this is Rose we're talking about; she's gonna find out eventually, and always sooner than we'll expect. And you know how personally she takes things. If she finds out that we all know something she doesn't and are all intentionally trying to keep it from her, she'll be super offended."

The boys started toward the Quidditch pitch heaving breakfast for seven starving players. Al was having difficulty down the hill; it was his week to haul the beverages. They stepped onto the slightly soggy Quidditch pitch and squinted through the sun to see seven players in red and gold robes flying through the air above them. Rocky was bellowing out inaudible orders and directions while Ishmael Stewarts was rephrasing and conveying, catching and passing the quaffle as is usual. Max, Al, and Scorpius began setting up the picnic after arriving in the stands. Rose caught sight of them and waved before having to duck to avoid Isaac Fisher swooping too low and hitting her. Al yelled in warning as she nearly fell and began back at the game as if nothing happened.

"Nah, Al," said Max glancing up from his newspaper. "Just let her get on with it. Injuries are an occupational hazard in Quidditch, especially with Rose."

"Scor, it doesn't have to be perfect," Al rolled his eyes as Scor readjusted the fruit bowl for the fourth time. Scorpius was always precise. He always set out plates, forks, knives, napkins, and goblets neatly for the team. Al found it unnecessary but learned to let him get on with it. As for the fruit bowl, Al didn't understand.

"The best side faces out," Scorpius muttered seemingly content with the placement.

"It's a bowl, it looks the same from all sides," said Al.

Max looked over his paper and tilted his head. "No, Scor's right, that side looks fuller."

The Gryffindors came streaking to the ground as Max finished his paper. Actually, he had to be finished because Rose had tripped over Watson's shoe and had fallen through the sixth page. This was Al's favorite bits of the weeks; he no longer wished to be in Gryffindor; he no longer felt like he needed to be.

When first sorted, he had kept his mouth shut. He hadn't taken his father's suggestion of requesting Gryffindor from the Sorting hat before the start of term last year. He wanted to and many times considered it but what Scorpius had said on the train was ringing through his ears. "I really just want to go wherever I'll do best. And if I don't try to meddle, the sorting hat will put me there, and wherever I'm put, I'll do well, so I'm not worried." Believe it or not, those words changed Al's life. If he never heard them he would have requested Gryffindor.