Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)

Familial Connection (Lorcan Scamander)

This one was requested by Gnomily and I've realised just how long it's taking me to get through all of these requests because of the months I took off from writing. I might have to accept less requests next time, but let's see 

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Five years in and I was still unable to write a half decent essay. Perhaps, it was for the best that the final grade rested on O.W.L scores and not the coursework we completed throughout the course of the year. Of course, the exams did have a large essay section. Groaning, I dropped my head into my hands.

"Chin up Wintesley," my tutor's voice said across the table.

"I'm going to fail," I complained but lifting my head regardless. Looking over the table towards Lysander, I waited for him to say something but he only offered me a shrug. "Rowena, you can't even tell me otherwise."

"Calm down," he insisted, rolling his eyes as he continued to read through my draft of the Transfiguration essay that I needed to hand in at the end of the week. The sixth-year had his quill poised over my essay, making small annotations as he went. Reaching the end, he finally set the quill aside before sliding the parchment back towards me. "Here, it's really not as bad as you think."

"So you say," I murmured dubiously, looking over the parchment, "but there's an awful lot of red ink marring this page."

"Want me to be honest with you?" He hesitated and when I watched him insistently, he offered me a well-meaning smile. "Truthfully, you're going to have to rework it quite a bit; you keep rambling about unnecessary things and deviating from the overarching question."

"So, I keep waffling," I surmised, taking the moment to actually read through the notes he'd made. "And here I was, thinking you were the nicer Scamander."

"I am," he assured me with an easy-going smile, a far too knowing smile. "Even if he is a Hufflepuff."

"Hey, I don't judge by house." With an apologetic glance at my watch, I realised, "I've held you up longer than I'm supposed to."

"It's not a problem," he assured me as I started to pack my things up. Lysander, rather than saying something else, was busy looking at someone from over my shoulder.

Curiously, I followed his eyes, wondering just what he was searching for. "Who are you looking for, Scamander? Did I keep you here too long?"

"No, no," he assured me, beginning to pack his own bag. "My brothers supposed to meet me. But I'm not surprised he's late."

Just like that, I was glancing around, horrified that I was going to be around Lorcan bloody Scamander. I wouldn't be able to speak a word to him and if he knew – Rowena, if he knew. "Lysander –"

"Relax, I haven't told him anything," Lysander assured me with a smile. "If I did, I'd find myself having to deflect a ridiculous number of hexes."

"Well, at least you know it."

"Hey," both Lysander and I started at the sudden, loud word followed by an arm wrapping itself around Lysander's shoulder. Oh Rowena, I wanted to disappear. Lysander turned to his brother in surprise – clearly my housemate hadn't expected to see his brother so soon. I frowned at the apologetic look he sent me. "Just who are you bad mouthing me to this time?"

"Maybe if you turned up on time, I wouldn't have to bad mouth you." Lysander shrugged out of his brother's arm. Holding my eyes, he gestured towards his brother, "Wintesley, you know Lysander, don't you?"

"Vaguely," I admitted, playing cool. Lysander struggled to hide his smile behind a hand. I shot him a glare. Yes, I liked his brother and no, it wasn't a crime. I wasn't going out of my way to get to know him – rather, I was running away at every possible opportunity to get to know Lorcan. This was one situation I couldn't run away from.