Must Have Done Something Right / Scorbus

Chapter 16 / A Run-in with a Psychopathic Idiotic Squib

Albus wanted to head down to the Quidditch pitch early that night. He bid a quick farewell to Scorpius, who worried over him and made him check he had his wand with him, twice, and then trudged up to the Entrance Hall, his grip on his beloved Nova tight, forcing the skin covering his knuckles into a ghostly white.
There was no denying it. He was nervous, despite calming Scorpius with the declaration that it would be "a piece of cake." Of course, this irritated his friend, who exclaimed that it was wrong to use food to describe the uneasiness of such a situation, but Albus just laughed it off.
But it would be uneasy. And tense. His muscles were already all stiff, and his mind was whirling: two things which didn't mix very well with Quidditch.
The secret confession by Ray and Merrick eased his nerves a little. He guessed that Matt didn't know about where Ray's and Merrick's loyalties really lay—they probably weren't ready to make it known yet—but he felt better knowing that he had at least some support if things were to go downhill. Which they probably would, Albus thought miserably.
Still, he had to stop thinking so negatively. He was Captain, dammit! And what's more, he was taller than Matt, which really counted for a lot when it came to boys and their sports. Also, it helped that he was the best damn Quidditch player Slytherin had, and it was he that would win them the Cup, Albus just knew.
"Albus! Wait up!"
Lily was running down the stairs to meet him, intersecting her brother at the Entrance doors to Hogwarts.
"I've got practice, Lils, I can't talk," Albus said dismissively, opening the giant door.
"I'm proud of you," she said quickly, getting a word in edge-wise before he walked out.
He stopped and turned to her. "Why?"
She smiled at him—the image of their mother. "You know why ... because you're the bigger man; and because you punched Matt in the face." Her laugh echoed in the grand foyer.
Albus couldn't help the smile on his face. "Yeah ... felt pretty good. Though it was murder on my wrist."
"I'm glad you're friends with Scorpius, Albie. And ... don't kill me for saying this, but I'm also glad that you're my brother," she chuckled, looking up into his face.
Warmth filled Albus. Sure, brothers and sisters were programmed to fight at every turn, and Merlin knows his parents were sick of their arguments, but there were these rare moments in time that Albus realised with clarity how much he appreciated Lily and James. Though he was probably inclined to admit it of his sister rather than James. "Same ... on both counts."
"Cool," she said. "Well, I'll let you go then. Good luck ... really," she said meaningfully, concern crossing her features.
"I'll be fine, Lils."
"Do you have your wand?"
Albus laughed. "Merlin, you're just like Scorp. Yes, mother, I have my wand."
"Okay then. See you," she said and quickly reached to give him a hug around his waist.
Albus, caught off guard, awkwardly placed an arm around Lily's shoulder. "Er ... Lils," he said.
"It's called a hug, idiot," she said warmly, her voice muffled in his Quidditch robes. "You put your arms around the other—"
"Smartarse," he murmured, pulling away with a smirk.
"Go get 'em," she wished before moseying back up the stairs.
Albus watched her ascend and her feet disappear beyond view, before breathing deeply, opening the enormous front door and wandering down to the pitch.
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Small figures appeared at the crest of the hill that leads down to the Quidditch stadium. Albus counted six of them, each with brooms held in their hands: the boys of the Slytherin Quidditch team. They mounted, and flew the rest of the way down to the centre of the pitch, where Albus awaited them in his Slytherin green robes. One by one they landed: Matt first, then Bryce, Paul and Crispin, followed by Merrick and Ray. They were all stone-faced, piercing Albus with their deadly stares. Albus reassured himself that Merrick and Ray were only acting.
"Look," he began. "We have a Cup to win, and we're doing this for a mutual love of Quidditch, whether we can stand the sight of each other or not. So why don't we just ignore the obvious and play, yeah?"
It seemed like a good idea to Albus, and surprisingly, everyone besides Matt decided to go along with it. They all straddled their brooms and took to the sky, immediately beginning laps. Matt remained on the ground with Albus.
"So that's all you're gonna say?"
"Yeah. Quidditch isn't the place to say anything else. We're here for practice, Matt, that's all. Get to the goals," Albus said, stalking off to the shed to get the balls.
"Alright, boys," Albus called later, grabbing the attention of his teammates when he joined the air with them. The bright red Quaffle was situated under his arm, ready to be tossed into play. "First game's against Gryffindor, and we're clearly not in top shape. I need us all to be on the same team. Problems that aren't related to Quidditch stay off the pitch,"Albus eyed them, deliberately lingering his stare on Matt. "Okay, we'll start with the Hawkshead today. Merrick, you lead it this time." He tossed the Quaffle to him who caught it quickly and swept his broom around. Everyone followed suit.
Within seconds, all six of them, minus Matt who was Keeper, were in a perfect arrow formation, with Merrick in the lead. They were flying at the speed of light. The wind was loud in Albus' ear as he brought up the rear of the arrow, the tail of Bryce's broom in front of him, slightly to the left. "Pass it, Rick!" Albus called to Merrick in the front. Perfectly executed, the Quaffle was passed expertly from player to player, and Albus felt exhilarated. It was move that intimidated the other team and almost always resulted in a goal—but it was risky, as it required the Seeker and Beaters as well to join in for the chase. This is why it had to be done fast. The Quaffle bounced from Bryce to Paul to Albus to Ray, back to Merrick. By this time they were feet away from the goal posts and Merrick aimed the final throw perfectly as it sailed clean through the top-most hoop.
"Brilliant!" Albus called out. "But we can make it faster. Again!"
And as such, practice was going brilliantly. Albus made them perfect this manoeuvre to his standards, before following on with some more specified moves. He had his Chasers practice reverse passes while racing at top speeds—a move which, when done accurately, was very difficult. Albus was sure this would give them the edge against Gryffindor—aiming for the hoops which Matt guarded predatorily. Albus instructed his Beaters to practice a tricky move that required them to come close enough to each to hit the Bludger simultaneously, which would result in a powerful hit, but was dangerous to themselves. Albus told them to perfect the technique first while on ground level to avoid the well-known disaster of an ill-timed bat swing. Albus himself, when not coaching his team, was prowling the air like a predator in search of his tiny golden prey. During the first hour that passed, he had caught it four times.
It was during the second hour of practice, however, when the tables turned. Albus should have known their seemingly peaceful practice would not last—it wasn't easy to avoid a newly broken five-year friendship.
He had his back turned to the goals, looking out for mistakes in the Chasers' passing techniques, calling out instructions to them—"Lean forward more!" "Loosen your grip on the Quaffle a bit to get a better throw!" "Rockwell, keep your eyes in front but your peripherals wide open!"—when Matt called his name, getting his attention.
"POTTER!" Matt yelled from his post as Keeper.
Albus turned to see what the problem was, when—
Crash!
A Bludger came careening straight in his face, smashing right into his head.
Instantly, Albus' head shot back, colourful fireworks exploding behind his eyes like quick charms and hexes, and his grip slackened from the sudden outburst of pain. He fell off his broom, rocketing towards the ground. His mind went blank as he dropped, his face still screaming at the pain of a deliberately aimed Bludger directly between his eyes, punching his face inwards.
Merrick had the frame of mind to slow his fall, so that when he hit ground, he did so at half his speed and landed without much pain. His team-members descended like large birds towards him, like vultures honing in on road kill.
He felt like a dead animal too. Albus moaned in pain as his eyes began leaking furious tears at the agony of his throbbing nose, so recently mended. He felt a warmth on his face and realised it was his blood, pouring out copiously from his nose and mouth, drenching his throbbing face. His vision began to fade, colours fading into a misshapen blur.
"Albus!"
Someone cried his name.
He was vaguely aware of faces crowding above his own, but everything soon dissolved into black.
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The first thing he saw when he woke up had blond hair.
He smiled immediately, ignoring the pain in his face as he did. "Scorp," he mumbled.
"Albus!" he cried, his silver eyes wide with hysteria and, if Albus wasn't mistaken, a little wet with unshed glistening tears. "How could they? That Matthew! How dare he? YOU FELL OFF YOUR BROOM! YOU COULD HAVE DIED!" The sound of his cry echoed within the white-washed walls of the Infirmary. Albus wouldn't be surprised if Pomfrey stormed in with a cross look at Scorpius.
He knew he shouldn't, but Albus couldn't help but grin wider at his outburst.
"Don't you dare laugh, Albus Potter! This is the THIRD INCIDENT ... you're laying half-dead in the Infirmary, and ... and ... WHY IN MERLIN'S NAME DIDN'T YOU USE YOUR WAND, YOU IDIOT?"
"Scorp! Calm down!" Albus grinned at his antics.
Scorpius didn't take this well. "Tell me, Potter," he spat his last name, though Albus had no fear that he meant it at all; there was no real hostility. "How do you expect me to calm down when my best friend and roommate is lying in the Infirmary, on his death bed, struggling to make any sort of facial expression, because some psychopathic idiotic Squib decided to send a Bludger to his face? Merlin, Al, something terrible could have really happened!"
There were so many things in Scorp's little spiel that Albus was desperate to comment on. With a smirk, he said, "Best friend, eh? And I see you've come up with a nickname for me as well."
It shouldn't have surprised Albus too see the blush colour Scorp's face pink. "Well ... I just assumed ... that that was the case. I didn't mean to ... I mean, not if you don't want ..."
"Scorpius," Albus said gently. "Assume away. And I do want it."
He smiled.
Albus continued. "And psychopathic idiotic Squib?" He laughed. "Perhaps a little too dramatic?"
Scorpius' face took on a determined look. "Not at all. In fact, there are many other things I would prefer to call him but none of them are printable, so he shall remain a psychopathic Squib." He nodded resolutely, before shaking his head. "I can't believe it. I just want to ... to hurt him so bad because of this ... a Bludger! As if your face hasn't gone through enough trauma already!"
Albus grinned. "I told you I'd need another Episkey from you."
"This isn't funny, Albus," Scorpius pouted.
Albus realised that the blond was quite upset and decided to stop with the jokes for now. Aggravating Scorpius wasn't what he wanted to do.
He changed the subject. "How long was I out?"
"A couple of hours. Pomfrey has fixed most of it up by now."
"Who bought me in here?" he asked.
"Those two boys from the team, Merrick and Raymond. I think ... I think Matt figured it out. I heard him shouting at them for being on your side. Well, truthfully, what he said was something quite a bit more rude than that, but you get the idea," Scorpius said, looking at Albus anxiously. He was twiddling with his fingers.
Albus noticed his tense behavior. "What's wrong?"
Scorpius bit his lip. "I feel like I've split you all up ... as if there is a massive dividing wall between you and him and everyone's choosing sides, and ... I don't know ... I just feel responsible."
"But that's a good thing," Albus said. "Don't you see? People are beginning to notice what an arse Matt is." Scorpius still didn't look convinced. "Stop worrying! I swear that's all you do," Albus grinned. "Things are changing for the better now, you'll see. And then everyone will realise that Matt is a ... what was it? Oh yeah, a psychopathic idiotic Squib."