Found In the Past

26

Albus's POV

I glare down at the white page in front of me, attempting to at least pretend I'm writing my transfiguration essay. My fingers start tapping restlessly on the arm of the silver chair I'm perched on. Normally, I would at least be trying to write some of my essay before giving up and begging Rose to help me, but that's not the case here. Today I just can't think straight after learning that I'll be spending the holidays with the Malfoys. With Scorpius.

Earlier in my potions class, I had accidentally mixed pearl dust and powdered knotgrass causing my memory potion to explode. The professor kindly told me that I had no hope in a profession relating to cauldrons of any sort. Not that I'd want to spend my days mixing and measuring... or in my case exploding things.

I absentmindedly dip my quill into the midnight-blue ink before glancing down at my paper again. I re-read the first sentence to myself and determine I can't turn this nonsense in. A snicker interrupts my brooding over my sorry excuse for an essay, and I look up to see a familiar-looking Slytherin. I know he's in my year... and I'm pretty sure his name is Brutus or something. The boy saunters over to my lone chair, sneering in front of the two goons who are following behind him. This ought to be fun.

"Albus Potter," He spits out the word 'Potter' as if it's an extreme evil. Something even I can't really argue there. "I guess you have no one to sit next to now that the blood traitor of a Malfoy has left Hogwarts. You could sit with us..." He drawls and my fists clench under my robe at the mention of Scorp. Brutus suddenly lets out a huge snort and his goons laugh as if he's said the most hilarious thing in the world. They go on a little too long with their snickering and my fellow fourth-year glares at them to shut them up.

"No thanks. I'm fine right here," I say bitterly, crossing my arms after gesturing at the armchair I'm sitting in. The dark look Brutus sends me remind me I have dueling class with him tomorrow so I quickly add: "Thanks for the offer though," the bully smiles wickedly and I shift apprehensively.

"But you see... this is my chair that you're sitting on right now. I always sit here, don't I Morfran?" He asks the larger of the two goons who shrugs at him.

"Yes. Brutus sits here every day," the goon, Morfran apparently, responds and glares my way. I feel heat rising in my cheeks. People like Brutus always push me around because of my heritage and lack-of-magic. Usually I let them, but not today. Maybe I'm feeling loads more daft than usual, but a rush of adrenaline shoots through me.

"I don't believe people would CLAIM something as trivial as chairs," I try to say casually, shaking my head. "Just seems rather... I uh dunno... daft?" My new found confidence leaves me as fast as it comes.

"I'm sorry, what did you say, I must have misheard?" Brutus says incredulously, looking me up and down, "Did he really just say that, Zag?" Brutus says to the second, slightly smaller goon who has a bit of an acne problem. Zag doesn't answer since this question is clearly rhetorical. I hurry to correct my mistake, taking one look at his muscles and remembering Brutus is a hard-core beater for the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Scorp's warned me about him before.

"No... I didn't mean.... I'll be leaving," I bite the inside of my cheek and start to pick up my papers hurriedly.

"Got anything else you want to say, Potter?" Brusu spits out and suddenly shoves me roughly, making me stumble back. I truly wouldn't mind having James's invisibility cloak right about now.

"No... erm nothing," I reply, keeping my head down and picking up the rest of my books. I walk past them, gritting my teeth slightly.

"Going to whine to your pathetic boyfriend... oh wait he's not here anymore!" Brutus taunts me again, not letting me off that easily. He pushes me back in front of him and basically dares me to disagree. He turns back to laugh with his friends bodyguards and my cheeks turn bright red, blood boiling.My body shakes as I raise my wand and flick my wrist carefully. I hesitate for a spilt second before firing the spell.

"Expelliarmus!" I call out. This happens to be the one spell my father saw fit to teach me, yet I'm still surprised when Brutus's wand zooms into my waiting hand. The two goons behind him cross their arms, but fail to hide the awestruck look. Who's the squib now? I think bitterly as I watch the bully's eyes land on the wand in my hand.

"Potter... you really shouldn't have done that," Brutus sneers and suddenly decides on a different tactic of confrontation. He charges at me, hands outstretched. On pure instinct, I race out of the common room and into the corridor, my flight instincts kicking in. A roar-like yell comes from behind me and I force my legs to move faster if possible. My escape lasts less than a minute before the other Slytherin's quidditch conditioning comes into play.

His legs kick at mine and I end up on the floor, face down. A sharp knee lands on my back and I grasp the two wands tighter, practically yelping in pain.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Nott. My office, now!" The headmistress's voice demands from above me, potentially saving my life. Again.

*****

"I-I was just writing my Muggle Studies essay when Potter hexed me," Brutus lies through his teeth, mustering up an innocent look. Professor McGonagall narrows her eyes at the both of us from across her desk, methodically fixing her glasses.

"Is this true, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall looks slightly concerned as she glances at me. I shake my head slowly.

"He tackled me," I state, rubbing my arm nervously. I never defend myself... I'm just going to make this worse. I glance over to where Brutus is now giving me a death glare and gulp quietly.

"That Potter boy is lying! He just wants to get out of expulsion. Back in my day, we hexed the students until the truth came out. I don't know why we stopped," A portrait that reads Phineas Nigellus Black at the bottom hisses loudly above a chorus of agreeing and dissenting voices.

"I agree with Black," A mean looking witch comment snidely, looking me up and down.

"He doesn't seem like an attacker though," a soft-spoken wizard in purple robes gestures to my form. Usually that would be an insult, but I think in this case it doesn't count as one.

"I believe Albus," a gray bearded portrait with a twinkle in his eye admits, then laughs to himself as if finding my name amusing. The other headmasters' voices instantly fade to silence with even Phineas shutting up smartly.

"I believe him as well," McGonagall echoes quickly, looking at the original Albus quizzically as if to convey a message I don't understand. Whatever the meaning is, the person who my father respected enough to name me after saved my skin.

They believe me! A grin splits across my face as a dark look consumes Brutus Nott's. I may have made an enemy, but that's nothing new for Potters to do. What matters right now is that fact I don't have detention for life, and that in less than two weeks is when I can finally see Scorpius again.