Chapter 8
Planning and Preparations
That latest meeting of the Arcane ScoRA was the last one the three friends had for a very long time. School and other aspects of life completely consumed their time. Then came midyear examinations, which Albus spent the most time of any Gryffindor studying for, preparing himself for the worst.
But even after all the grueling test were done, the Hogwarts students all found themselves occupied yet again, but for a much more welcome reason: Christmas.
Christmas preparations were taking place all over the school, by students and staff alike. In Charms class, Professor Branstone had begun applying their knowledge of levitation spells to helping decorate the castle, the first useful thing they felt like they had done since the school year had started. Professor Patil, who taught a class that no one was sure could be made festive, invited the house elves into the classroom so they could be ‘observed’, although the terms of the project were not very strictly defined. In Transfiguration, even Professor Dugan decided to allow some festive activities. They had been learning the properties of color-changing spells by being given Christmas ornaments to transform. And the best part was it wasn’t graded.
In Potions, things proceeded much the same as they had the rest of the year. No one was shocked.
Finally, the last day of class came, along with Albus’ last class of the term: Herbology. At the end of the school day, the first-year Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs were all in the room before Professor Longbottom, who was easily the favorite teacher of all years. Everyone was excited to see what he had planned
Eventually, five minutes late, Professor Longbottom burst through the greenhouse doors, appearing incredibly frazzled. No one moved from their stool seats, but every student sat a rapt attention, waiting to see what was in store.
“Children,” Professor Longbottom gasped as he rushed along the aisles, “has anyone seen Dolores?”
A few students from Hufflepuff giggled as Professor Longbottom began sweeping through a section of leafy, fern-like plants. Deep down, Albus knew a lot of this was just meant to be an entertaining show for the students in honor of the upcoming break, but that didn’t stop anyone in the room from enjoying it.
Dolores was Professor Longbottom’s pet toad, who was a constant companion in his classes. Well, in truth, this was Dolores VI. Professor Longbottom had named every toad he had ever had in his teaching career Dolores, which he had explained to the student body on more than several dozen occasions. Although most students at Hogwarts could not believe an animal as sweet as Dolores could possibly be named after such a horrible human being.
“Wait a minute.” Professor Longbottom waved his finger jokingly as he reached towards Georgia Ackhart’s hat, promptly lifting it off the top of her head.
Sure enough, perched atop of Georgia’s head, trying to burrow into her hair and hide, was Dolores the toad. Every student in the room started laughing and Georgia’s eyes grew wider and wider, as she slowly began to put the pieces together.
“There you are, Dolores!” he exclaimed. “How did you get under there?”
“Get it off me!” Georgia screeched as she cringed.
Swiftly, he swiped the amphibian from her coppery strands of hair, holding little Dolores safely in his palm.
“You know,” Professor Longbottom told his students as he set Dolores, the toad, on one of the potting tables, “you kids should really show more respect to our amphibian friends. In Brazil, their school corridors change continuously, and the students use guide frogs to help them find their way to class. But if you were ever there, and the guide frogs learned that you were talking this way about members of their families, they might not help you. Then what would you do?”
“Oh, Professor Longbottom,” Leo called up to the front, “don’t waste the entire class period talking about Brazilian frogs!”
“Yeah, no one cares about Brazil!” Gavin agreed. “Tell us a war story!”
“One with the Carrows!” Elle Peakes, who was normally so quiet in class, shouted with enthusiasm. “Or one of the student Death Eaters!”
“You children always want to hear about the Carrows.” Professor Longbottom groaned jokingly. “I don’t know if I have any stories left to tell about them!”
It wasn’t just the Carrows. In only one term, Professor Longbottom had told the first-year the stories of Dolores Umbridge, who tortured the students all through his fifth year, the Triwizard Tournament when he had slipped Harry Potter gillyweed for the second challenge. Albus had to admit to himself that his Herbology teacher still had any stories left to tell at this point.
“But I do have a very good story about Dumbledore’s Army, the resistance I was a part of that I have been saving.”
An excited murmur overtook the class, but eventually settled into complete science.
“You children already know who Severus Snape is, don’t you?”
Most of the heads in the room nodded, but of course, Albus knew who Severus Snape was. He was one of the men he had been named for, after all, but all his life, he felt he had gotten mixed messages about the man. His dad had always told him that his former Potions professor was a great man, a brave man, but would always conveniently leave out any details about what kind of teacher he was.
His uncles Bill and George, however, were more than happy to fill him in on those gaps though. During his teaching career, Professor Snape had been one of the strictest, cruelest teachers Hogwarts had ever known, raining down his wrath especially hard on the Gryffindors. Even Uncle Bill, who had been Head Boy, seemed to carry a special sort of distain for the man.
His mother and Aunt Hermione’s chief concerns, on the other hand, was that Albus would be beaten up every day of his young life for sporting the name Albus Severus Potter. He had been beaten up, yes, but never because of his middle name.
“How about I tell you the story of when I first began to suspect he might not have been as much of a Dark wizard as people gave him credit?”
As though Professor Longbottom even had to ask. Every student in the classroom cheered and raised their hands to show their approval.
“Alright.” Professor Longbottom finally surrendered. “I suppose I should start from the beginning. Lord Voldemort had just taken over the Ministry of Magic, and then, of course, Hogwarts was next to fall under his control. But since he couldn’t be everywhere at once, he put a man in charge that he thought he could trust.”
A few people in the back snickered in the way people always do when they know the end of a story before it is told.
“Anyway,” Professor Longbottom continued, “I had always been afraid of Professor Snape, ever since I was a first-year. And being the leader of an underground resistance had done absolutely nothing to change this fact. But being that I was the current leader, unofficially in the eyes of the Carrows, whenever anything really wrong occurred under them, I would have been the one to be sent to the Headmaster’s office.
“One such day, I and several of the Hufflepuff recruits made a plan to sneak a very important parchment out of the castle. On this parchment, we had all made notes of where the Carrows could be found at any given moment of the day, Death Eaters we had seen coming in and out of the castle, anything we thought might be useful to those on the outside, even if it could only be used once the war was over, as a record.”
The entire classroom was silent, save for the occasional shoe scraping against the legs of their stool. No teacher had the ability to capture their students’ attention quite like Professor Longbottom.
“Making the record was easy enough,” Professor Longbottom went on to say, picking Dolores up once again and allowing her to ride in his open palm. “The challenge was actually getting the records out. All student mail was opened and monitored to make sure nothing questionable could be sent by or to the students. What had to be done was a group of students had to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night, avoid all signs of detection, and get the letter to an unregistered owl that would send it to the Order of the Phoenix. Unfortunately, we were all caught before we were even halfway there, and, naturally, we were immediately sent to the Headmaster’s office, in the middle of the night, to face the wrath of Professor Snape.”
A collective gasp shuddered across the room. Even Albus couldn’t help but participate.
“Of course, I did my best to put up a brave front for my fellow capture comrades, but I would have given anything at that moment to have an asteroid crash through the castle walls and crush me flat.”
Professor Longbottom set Dolores down on one of the tabletop and slammed his fist into his left palm to help illustrate this better. A few of the Hufflepuff girls jumped, but soon brought their complete attention back to the story.
“Naturally, Professor Snape didn’t remain in his office all through the night, waiting for anyone who might be sent to him; so we all just had to sit there and wait for him to come to us. The Carrows even locked us in so we couldn’t escape.
“We sat in those chairs for two hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-eight seconds.” Professor Longbottom spoke the time in a pained sort of way, as though just saying it made him feel all the panic and anxiety he must have felt back then. “My friend Ernie Macmillan was wearing a watch, and I made sure I knew exactly what time it was at all times.”
At the mention of the other boy’s name, Fairfax Macmillan smiled proudly and she began to hold her head up a little bit higher. All the same, it didn’t completely overtake the quiet unrest as the students sat together, waiting to hear how the story ended, even though they all knew on some level it couldn’t have been that bad. Professor Longbottom was standing right in front of them, perfectly fine, after all.
“Finally, Professor Snape came up to his office. We had all assumed that the long wait had just been part of the torture,” Professor Longbottom told his students in a hushed voice. “But he looked at us as though we were sitting there and had had the Carrows wake him up just to annoy him. So he snapped at us, ‘What are you all doing out of bed?’
“None of us knew what to say. We were all taken completely by surprise. ‘Get back to your houses, all of you, right now, before I expel the lot of you!’”
The voice that Professor Longbottom had assigned to Professor Snape, Albus knew was meant to be scary, but all it accomplished was to make the students giggle. Albus wondered if Professor Snape really had sounded like this, and if the students all laughed at his voice the way the kids in his class were doing now. How many of his friends would have been expelled if Professor Snape knew they were laughing at the way he spoke?
“We were shocked, but we certainly weren’t going to wait around for him to change his mind. We raced down the staircase and out into the corridor. Everyone else was racing ahead of me, making their way down to the Hufflepuff common room, but I had to stop when I heard a noise like something falling behind me. I turned around just in time to see our parchment fluttering down to the floor. It hadn’t been torn, destroyed, splotched. It didn’t even have a note written on it. Professor Snape had just dropped it down the staircase for one of us to find.
“That was when I first started to suspect something was off.” Professor Longbottom spoke in an ominous sort of tone, regaling in his younger days. “When I first believed maybe he wasn’t as horrid a man deep down as he wanted us all to believe.”
“Is that the end of the story?” a Hufflepuff named Micah Oswald raised his hand and asked. “Can we hear one about the Battle of Hogwarts now?”
“Hold on.” Professor Longbottom stopped before his entire class could erupt in agreement. “Let’s at least pretend we did something productive today before we move on to another story. Does anyone have any questions of me? About anything, anything at all? It doesn’t have to be Herbology related.”
Still, the classroom remained silent and still. Albus, however, did have a question he was hoping he would be able to run by his teacher, although he wasn’t quite sure he felt safe asking it.
“The sooner somebody asks a question, the sooner you’ll all get to hear another war story.”
Finally, Albus made his decision and raised his hand. As Herbology was one of the few classes he did not share with Scorpius or Rose, Albus felt safe in asking his teacher this question in such an open environment. Besides, it was unlikely any of the Hufflepuffs would be braving the Slytherin Dungeons just to tattle on him to Scorpius.
“Yes, Mr. Potter,” Professor Longbottom called on him once again, picking Dolores back up. “What would you like to be enlightened with?”
“Did you ever ask anyone outside of Dumbledore’s Army for help?”
“You mean among the Slytherins, Mr. Potter?” Professor Longbottom questioned with wide eyes. “Do you think I had a death wish?”
“No.” Albus remained serious. “I mean just anyone outside of the resistance. To someone who knew something or could have done something than no one inside the organization could have.”
“Well,” Professor Longbottom pondered aloud as he considered his answer, “we didn’t go to any of the other teachers, if that’s what you mean. The school was very much under Lord Voldemort’s thumb, and we knew if any of our professor were caught helping us, it would mean their end. We had known our teachers for years, shared a bond with them. We couldn’t risk any of them suffering such a horrible fate.”
Albus bit at the inside of his cheek, wondering what consequences his own actions might bring.
“That doesn’t mean, however, that we didn’t reach outside out own organization for help,” Professor Longbottom then went on to explain. “All the members of Dumbledore’s Army had significantly more eyes watching them than any other member of the student body, even if the Carrows could never prove anything. Occasionally, members would reach out to housemates that weren’t an official part of the resistance to relay information. If they had gotten caught, their punishment would have been just as bad, if not worse, than if one of use were caught. Yet, even if they were not a part of the D.A., these students who helped still very much believed in the concept of house unity, and on that concept alone, were willing to go straight into the belly of the beast.”
Albus nodded, happy with the answer he had been given. He now knew exactly what he had to do.
“Now then.” Professor Longbottom broke his tone. “I do believe I now owe you all a Battle of Hogwarts story.”
Once again, the greenhouse burst out in large cheers, which Professor Longbottom had to frantically quiet as he believed to have seen the unmistakable shadow of Professor Flitwick move across one of the windows.
“It all started quite early in the morning. There was still a chill in the air…”
Even after nearly a week of nonexistent schoolwork, the noble house of Gryffindor still felt the necessity to celebrate the end of the term. Late at night, long after most students would have begun winding down, the common room was still a buzz with activity. There would be no classes tomorrow, so no one worried about what kind of sleep they would get. Food and drinks had been pilfered from the kitchen, with elves even assisting in the collection, several different radios were playing, all at different stations, and every piece of furniture and much of the carpeting was taken up by students playing games, chatting about holiday plans, and even creating last minute efforts to change the makes on their term reports.
That night, Albus stayed up later than he ever had before in his life. A stomach full of Licorice Wands, Chocolate Frogs, candy canes, and other sugary things had help to bring that about. A few lone figures remained, some collecting empty cups and plates, others sprawled across the floor and pieces of furniture, in various stages of sleep. But Albus had a plan very set in his mind, and he was determined to follow through with it, not caring what anyone else thought.
He was going to invite Maddox Dugan to join the Arcane ScoRA.
Wanting to make sure nothing could happen to blow up in his face, Albus scanned the few remaining in the common room for familiar faces. The first-years had been the first to depart from the festivities. Even Dominique, who normally did not care for parties or other large gatherings, had stayed awake, feeling her duties as a prefect inclined her to maintain an order of decorum among the Gryffindors, even though Victoire and the other prefects did not share her opinion, all of them leaving hours before. James and Fred were still reclined in the corner, a half-dozen hostage pillows scattered around them. Drifting in and out of states of consciousness, it seemed very unlikely they would have the ability to comment on anything he might say to Maddox.
Maddox himself was resting, dazed and sprawled out along one of the couches with no one to share it with. He appeared to be one the very verge of sleep, the warm fire and squishy cushions inviting it, but Albus could tell the older boy was still fighting to stay awake.
“Maddox.” Albus approached the older boy carefully. “Is it okay if I ask you something…in private?”
“Sure, Little Potter.” Maddox groaned and strained as he pushed himself off the sofa. His entire face stretched as he yawned and his hand over his eyes. It was a pretty clear that leaving his cozy little corner was one of the last things he wanted to do, but he still allowed Albus to lead him away from the few remaining Gryffindors and into a tiny alcove where Albus felt confident that their conversation could not be heard.
“Alright, Albus,” Maddox said sleepily. “What’s on your mind?”
Before truly committing to the events set in motion, Albus made one last survey of their surroundings, making sure they were completely alone.
“Do you know how all these creatures have been getting into the school?”
“Little Potter, I know that swarm at the Quidditch match was scary, but it was more than a month ago. Nothing strange has happened since, and it was only one freak event.”
Maddox hardly seemed swayed. Albus knew the fourth-year more than likely believed Albus was just being a scaredy-cat and coming to him like a frightened child. Funny how Albus actually did feel very much like that at the moment.
“What about the Erkling that got into the corridors that night?” Albus listed off. “And then there were the Chizpurfles before that!”
Maddox nodded, but he yawned loudly and rubbed his fist across his eyes. Albus began to question the wisdom of consulting the boy so late at night. Surely he could have just as easily caught him along tomorrow morning when everyone was rushing around, preparing their things for when they would leave on the train.
But there was no turning back from his plan now.
“Yes, yes,” Maddox agreed with the younger student, still groggy. “But what is it you are trying to say?”
“Well, me and my friends Scorpius Malfoy, and Rose Weasley, my cousin; you remember her. We have formed a society, a secret society.”
“What kind of secret society?”
“To find out how all these creatures are getting into the school.”
“Uh-huh,” Maddox said as he stifled a yawn, expressing the same sort of bored interest that most people showed towards small children. “And how are you going to do this?”
“We don’t know,” Albus confessed, “but we’ve already done something about them. You remember the Erkling, don’t you? And how it was found in the courtyard?”
“I suppose you and your friends lured it off one of the towers and let it fall to its death, didn’t you?”
When Albus delayed in giving a direct answer, Maddox’s eyes suddenly flew open as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped on his head.
“You did, didn’t you?”
“We’re called the Arcane ScoRA, and I was wondering if you wanted to join us.”
The last part of that sentence came out a little faster than the rest of his speech, but Albus couldn’t help it. Talking about the organization like this gave him such a rush. Before, when it was just him talking about it with Scorpius and Rose, it was just a stupid little kids’ club. But now that it was out in the open, with a new potential member, an older member who could add so much to the society, it brought at whole new energy to the idea.
Maddox seemed very wide awake now. His expression became quite similar to that of someone who had just swallowed a whole clove of garlic.
“Join you?” Maddox repeated. “Well, that is quite an offer, Little Potter. What exactly does this ‘Arcane ScoRA’ do?”
“Well, we’ll probably change the name one you join too. Although, Rose, Scorpius, and I were the original founders, and adding more letters to the name every time we get a new member would probably complicate things...”
He was rambling again, but this time he was able to bring himself to a stop once he noticed the unsure expression on Maddox’s face. It was not the expression of one who was immediately ready to join the ranks, or so Albus assumed
“Little Potter, I really have to tell, I don’t know quite how to react to this whole idea. And rushing into things half-cocked never helped anyone
“But I’ll tell you what, Albus,” Maddox spoke up again once he saw the disappointment in Albus’ eyes. “Let me take the Christmas holiday to think about it. I’ll have a better idea of what I am able to do once I return to Hogwarts.”
It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t exactly a no either. And it certainly didn’t seem like he was going to go running to a teacher the first chance he got.
“Go to bed, Little Potter,” Maddox told him before heading off to his own tower. “You won’t be able to sleep on this train ride home. Believe me.”
“…and remember,” Rose rambled the next morning at breakfast, “we all have our assignments for over the holidays.”
Albus suddenly flashed back to attention and looked up from his eggs and sausage. Assignments? How much of the conversation had he missed?
“Scorpius, your parents and grandparents know all kinds of important people, and adults never give kids the whole story.”
The next part of Rose’s statement was spoken with a sly smile. “Of course, they also don’t pay attention to what they say around kids either. What you need to do is listen to everything they say. Listen to anything they say about the school, and write down anything you think might be important. And maybe once we put it all together it will mean something.”
“I’ve got it,” Scorpius replied, reaching down to grab the handle of his trunk.
Rose and Scorpius didn’t seem the slightest bit worried about anyone hearing their conversation. The Great Hall was such a rushing mass of chaos this morning, it seemed unlikely that anyone would be paying attention to the conversation of the miniscule first-years.
“Albus and I always spend Christmas together, and we know our assignments,” Rose finished. “So…I suppose that’s it.”
“I hope you two both have a happy Christmas,” Scorpius told the two cousins before turning to make his way towards the door. He didn’t so much as look back at the two of them, but he eventually caught up to an older girl whom Albus recognized as Jocelyn Dale and the two of them walked out of the Great Hall together.
The train station was freezing cold. It almost made Albus wish he had decided to stay at school over the holiday just so he could be inside right now with a fire and elves who, with a near empty school, would have nothing better to do than bring him cup after cup of hot chocolate. With mandated union breaks, of course, he soon thought to himself when his eyes met with Rose, thinking that somehow his Aunt Hermione might be able to hear his thoughts through her daughter.
“First-years now boarding!” Hagrid called out, looking perfectly content in his heavy moleskin coat.
“About time!” Rose gasped as she raced for the doors, along with the swarm of other first-years.
Albus followed Rose closely, for he had no idea where they were going, although he did know there was a specific destination in mind. On any other ride on the Hogwarts Express, Albus and all of his cousins would scatter among the various compartments of the train. Christmas time was different, however.
This time, the entire Weasley clan had reserved the largest compartment on the train just for them. With all of them in different classes, years, and activities having nothing to do with school, it was a rare moment when they could all be together. Albus was fairly confident that this particular train compartment had been built solely to accommodate the Weasley family. There had always been a lot of them.
The ride home for Christmas holidays was the one time the Weasley cousins would make sure they were all together.
Eventually, Rose and Albus found the large compartment, seeming the size of a house with just the two of them inside alone. But eventually, the second-years were allowed on the train, and Roxanne joined them. She was soon followed by Fred and James, who gave way to Louis and Lucy. Then came Molly, Dominique, and finally, Victoire. By then, every student had boarded. No more than a moment or so after Victoire took her seat, the train shifted and began chugging along the tracks, bringing nearly the entire student body of Hogwarts home.
Uncle Bill’s children all sat in a neat row of one another. Victoire was writing something in a composition book, holding it close to her chest so no one else in the car could read it. Dominique sat pouring over a textbook entitled O.W.L. Exam Preparation in Your Spare Time, chewing on her index fingernail, while Louis went over the parchment of Quidditch strategies that Tracy had handed out to the entire Quidditch team. James, Fred, and Roxanne had the exact same piece of parchment, but they were hardly giving it the same consideration that their older cousin was. The three of them had a piece of parchment in front of them as well, but the ink that had bled through page showed a logo with three intertwining W’s. More than likely something for Uncle George’s shop, something either involving a new product or the cut they would get for selling it.
Molly and Lucy sat side by side, barely an inch of height difference between their two brunette heads. Molly, as a fifth-year, had her O.W.L.s coming up soon as well, but from her calm, nearly dazed expression on her face. She did not appear to share the same anxiously frantic attitude towards the exam that her cousin did. Then again, Albus had never met any two people less alike than Molly and Dominique.
Occasionally, the older cousins would exchange conversation with one another, but even though Albus and Rose were sitting right beside each other, they didn’t say a word. Albus would look over to his side every now and again, but Rose would always be sitting at a sort of rapt attention, as though all that was happening inside her head was plenty to entertain her. Not willing to find out what the reaction would be if Rose were pulled out of these thought, Albus let her be and stared out the window. He watched as the scenery changed into forests, and fields, villages, and eventually the beginnings of London.
“Attention, students, attention,” the conductor’s voice called out. “We will be arriving at Kings Cross in fifteen minutes. Please bundle up and have a happy Christmas.”
Albus sighed wearily as he gathered up his cloak and other knit things, mentally preparing himself for what he knew the holidays would bring this year just as they did every year. He wished himself a happy Christmas before following his cousins out of the compartment and into the madness.
“ALBUS! JAMES! ROSE!”
Albus turned his head to the right, in the direction of the loud, but very familiar voice of his little sister. Lily was the first person to spot them just as Rose stepped off the train. By the time Rose had both feet firmly on the platform, Albus’ parents and Aunt Hermione were approaching them, with Lily and Hugo racing ahead of the pack.
Out the corner of his eye, Albus couldn’t help but notice a slightly sick expression take over Rose’s face, and he some clue as to the reason behind it. This was the first time his cousin would be seeing her father since she had left for Hogwarts; her father that had told her if she did not get into Gryffindor, he would disinherit her. In the letters from home, none of them had mentioned Uncle Ron’s feelings about his only daughter being Sorted into Ravenclaw. For weeks now, Albus had been trying to remind Rose that nobody disinherited their children because of their Sortings anymore, least of anyone from the Weasleys. Albus couldn’t think of another family more devoted to one another.
Besides, even if Uncle Ron did disinherit her, it wasn’t as though Rose didn’t have a half dozen other branches of the Weasley family tree that would take her in.
Speaking of which, it was at the point the large collection of Weasley cousins parted ways into the arms of several waiting groups of aunts and uncles. Dominique and Louis rushed to Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur, their mother gushing in French and them speaking shorter French phrases back, leaving Bill standing off to the side, waiting for the English portion of the reunion. Victoire had all but disappeared, more than likely gone off to meet Teddy Lupin, who was nowhere to be found either. Fred and Roxanne raced with their hands full over to their mother, setting their trunks at Aunt Angelina's feet, and then placing their school reports in one hand and a large stack of what had to be order forms for Weasley Wizard Wheezes in the other. Molly and Lucy were already gone, even though Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey were still standing on the platform waiting for them; no doubt the two sisters believed they may have a chance to do some shopping in the Muggle shops of London before their parents realized what happened.
“ALBUS!” Lily shrieked, nearly tackling Albus to the ground in a remarkably strong hug for someone her size. Hugo dashed up from right behind her, choosing Rose as his target, but actually succeeding in knocking his older sibling to the concrete. Rose yelped, but then started laughing and hugging her younger brother back. The relationship between the two of the was quite different from the battle-laced one that existed between the Potter children.
“Boys,” Albus’ dad greeted his sons as soon as the remaining crowd of family members reached them. “You both had a good term, I trust?”
“Oh, of course, Dad. And I’ve been taking good care of little Albie-kins too,” James said, playfully ruffling Albus’ hair in what Albus knew to be a sarcastic act before suddenly becoming more serious. “Hi, Mum. How are you today?”
Before greeting her firstborn son, their mother held out her hand expectantly. Albus couldn’t help but smirk at the family ritual. Every year when they had picked James up from the Kings Cross, their mother would first ask to see his school report, with particular attention paid to the disciplinary file, before decide just how happy she was to see him.
“I’m very well, James,” she remarked as her son handed her the folded piece of paper. After thoroughly reading the report and folding it back again. “Only three detentions this term?”
“The year is still young,” James joked and laugh, but instantly stopping as soon as he saw that his mother did not find his words nearly as amusing as he had. Wisely, he chose to abandon the topic of conversation and turned to his younger sister, who still had her arms wrapped tightly around Albus’ middle. “Lily, don’t I get a hug?”
Lily stopped for a moment to regard James with a critical gaze before deciding on her words. “Did you bring me anything from Hogwarts?”
“It’s not a holiday destination, Lily,” James said to his sister, repeating what he had told her at last year’s holiday, and the year before that. “It’s a school. There isn’t a gift shop!”
“That means no, doesn’t it?” Lily pouted.
No hug for James, it would appear, Albus thought to himself, amused.
“Rose!” Aunt Hermione rushed to her daughter the moment Hugo released his clinging grip around her neck and the two of them pushed themselves up onto their feet. “You look wonderful!”
“Hello, Mum,” Rose greeted her mother. “Where’s Dad?”
“Oh, he’s off showing of that car to your Uncle George,” Aunt Hermione answer, shaking her head, annoyed. “I swear, the man passes one Muggle driver’s test, and suddenly he believes he is somehow an expert in the ways of Muggle society.”
“I don’t believe you have a driver’s license, Hermione,” Albus mother teased, wagging her finger at his aunt.
Albus’ dad snickered at the comment while Aunt Hermione rolled her eye, but Rose kept her eyes on the platform entrance. Soon ahead, two redheaded men bundled down in Muggle winter clothes through the solid brick platform, laughing arm and arm, and Uncle George wearing his hilarious one-ear earmuff. The women of the family had all called Uncle George’s winter headgear tasteless and tacky, but the cousins, as with everything else Uncle George did or made, found it incredibly amusing.
Eventually, the two adult brothers stopped kidding around with one another long enough to meet of with their families. Uncle George rushed over to Aunt Angelina, taking the order forms in one hand and hugging his wife around the shoulder with the other. Roxanne rushed forward to hug her both her parents, and after a rather forceful yank from his sister, Fred did too.
Uncle Ron watched his brother’s family for a moment before finally approaching his own, setting his sights on the body closest to him: Rose. Albus’ cousin reached back towards him to grab a hold of his hand and took a deep, nervous breath.
“Ohhhh!” Uncle Ron caught Rose up in a giant hug and spun around. “There’s my little Rosie Cosy-Toesies!”
Hugo laughed at the image of his sister swirling through the air at top speed, and the rest of the adult all smiled at the affectionate display, but Rose simply seemed bewildered. Of all the reaction she must have prepared herself for, this had not been one of them.
“I guess he’s gotten over it,” Albus shrugged after Uncle Ron set his daughter down and Rose’s feet were firmly on the ground.
Uncle Ron raised an eyebrow at Albus’ comment. “What’s all this about then?”
“At the beginning of the term,” Albus reminded him, “you told Rose that if she wasn’t Sorted into Gryffindor, that she wasn’t you daughter anymore.”
Uncle Ron laughed at Albus’ word, but stopped once he noticed the nervous expression his daughter was sharing with the ground, and her anxiously shifting feet.
“Rosie,” he said, suddenly sounding more serious. “Rosie, look at me.”
Finally, he was able to get Rose to look him in the eyes. Albus watched his cousin chew on her bottom lip and wring her cloak through her fists.
“Rosie, no matter what house you would have gotten Sorted into, I would have been proud of you,” he told Rose, making sure that everything said and how he said it left no doubts as to the sincerity of his words. “You’re my baby. I raised you for eleven years, and everything you’ve ever done has made me proud. Getting Sorted into Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff does not change that.”
James began playing an pretend violin to go along with Uncle Ron’s speech, which was put to a prompt end when Albus elbowed him in the stomach. Gryffindor really is starting to rub off on me.
“And your mother and I have always know you were a smart cookie! Her parents don’t stop reminding me.”
That last comment was said as a whisper, but luckily, Aunt Hermione didn’t hear it. Rose was starting to look a little better, but there was a certain glint her eyes that let Albus know that she had heard something that she planned on using against her father.
“Any house?” Rose asked with a raised eyebrow. “Even Slytherin?”
“Okay, let’s get going!” Uncle Ron clapped his gloved hands together, thoroughly trying to avoid answering that particular question. “We feels like going for a hot chocolate before we leave for Grimmauld Place?”
“Me, me, me!” Lily and Hugo both shouted, jumping up and down.
The smaller children raced ahead to the platform with Uncle Ron right one their heels, as though he could not get away from his daughter, or rather her question, fast enough. But Rose was soon chasing after him, shouting her argument all along the way.
“I’m going to tell my children to ask the hat to put them in Slytherin just to make sure you really mean that!”
The Arcane ScoRA and the Wand of MacArt by OliveOil_Med
Chapter Notes: Christmas is coming and the Arcane ScoRA is creating a plan of attack for of the holiday. And Albus takes a leap of faith, and invites Maddox to become a member of the Arcane ScoRA.
Thank you to Azhure, Afifia, and Caitlin!
Also, thank you to JCCoiller for letting me borrow her idea of the guide frogs from her Brazillian school. Please read her amazing story, Marissa and the Wizards.