Albus (A Next Generation Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Meeting

Being Al and James, they'd both managed to lose at least half of their book supply over the term, which was discovered by their frustrated mother three days before they went back to school. She always had a panic about packing, Al remembered that from last year when James was alone at Hogwarts, and he'd experienced it first-hand in September. The reason for the fuss, according to his Mum, was that owls couldn't carry very heavy loads if they forgot anything. At a push, a broomstick, but not a pile of books or some pairs of shoes.

"Albus, where is your Hogwarts: A History?" She snapped, while their trunks were open in the living room and the list in her hand was slowly getting longer of things they needed to find.

Al shrugged, standing helplessly by the side of a pile of James' clothes. "I dunno. I couldn't find it ages ago," he gave as an excuse, even though it wasn't well received by his mother.

"That is another thing we'll have to get for you! We're taking a trip into Diagon Alley, and every book you two have lost you're getting second-hand," she said, pointing accusingly at Al and James.

"Al probably lost his Hogwarts: A History in the greenhouses. I saw about 4 lost property ones there a few days before we left, but they put them in the library if you leave them in a classroom," Rose piped up, sitting nicely on a chair in the corner next to her fully packed suitcase. She hadn't lost a thing, which was so frustrating. Of course a girl would have better organisation than Al did.

"Shut up, Rose," Al muttered. "I never talk to you at school."

Rose raised her eyebrows, the shock of Al's words registering in her mother's brown eyes. "Yeah, because you hang out with Purebloods now," she retaliated. "Too cool for us," she finished, but it was not a compliment.

"Yeah, I am cooler than you, because you have a total of, like, zero friends," Al spat. James looked at his brother with wide eyes, and then to his mother, whose head shot up from the book list.

"Albus!"

Rose hopped off her chair and stomped out the room. Al smiled. Now she couldn't sit there all smug and annoying.

"That was not nice! Apologise!" Mum snapped, and he sank into the creaky wooden floorboards before traipsing out the room to say a disgruntled 'sorry' to Rose.

A few moments and a lot more shouting later, James, Al, and their Dad were in Diagon Alley. They'd been dragged into Gringotts and Dad's office to pick up some things he was supposed to have done, and now they were running down the halls of the second-hand bookshop, trying to hide from each other instead of looking for replacements of the books they'd lost.
Al crouched in a dusty corner where he'd seen James pass a second ago. The books smelled old and mouldy, as if their pages had been turned too many times until they lay limp in the user's hand. Shelves with copies of random books in an unorganised order were stacked above Al, making him smaller than a mouse in their imposing shadow.

"Albus!" Came the sharp call of his Dad. He sighed and assumed the game was over. Stretching his legs, he slowly and silently got up, peering around the corner to make sure this wasn't James tricking him. He crept along the corridor, light seeping in from the higher windows between the books to guide his way. He noticed his Dad waiting behind a bookshelf, but James wasn't there and Al was about to slink back into the shadows to hide before his brother jumped out in front of him and he lost, but his Dad saw him creepily crouching and beckoned him over.

"Look, I can see you two are having fun, but have you actually found any of the books on the list?" He asked. Al thought about how he'd started to look for a Transfiguration guide he'd misplaced earlier on, but then James decided to start the game.

"No," Al said, shuffling his feet and looking down at the floor as he spoke. "I'll go find them now," he quickly added, trying to slink back into the maze of shelves before James appeared, but his Dad stopped him.

"That's enough, Al. I'll 'accio' the lot, and if an ancient, tattered one comes along, you stick with that one. I've been waiting here long enough for you to find your own," he said, pulling out his wand and waving it discreetly, muttering each item from the list as they flew out of the bookshelves. Technically, you weren't allowed to do that. It was some precaution nowadays, after a big robbery that happened in this very shop a couple of summers ago, when they used 'Accio' to steal half the store. Al had thought it was pretty neat at the time, he just wondered why on Earth you'd have a heist at the second-hand bookstore and not the bank.

James also tried to jump out and scare him, pretending that he'd won, but Al told him that he'd seen him sneaking up and that meant he had won, which started another argument that continued until they left the bookshop, their father rubbing his eyes in desperation.

Outside the street was busy. A lot of other Hogwarts families were out shopping, and to Al's surprise, he suddenly spotted a flash of white-blonde hair across the crowd that could only belong to one person.

"Scor!" He yelled, causing the people around him to jump and glare at their group angrily. The white head turned around, and left a taller, but equally white head that Al assumed was his Dad, to rush over to Al. He watched his friend push through the crowd and reach Al, staring up at his father in admiration.

"Hi Al. Wow, hi, Mr Potter," he said, ignoring Al's presence for a second to try and gaze through his Dad's messy hair to see his famous scar. Scor was smiling from ear to ear, obviously happy to see them. He hadn't written all holiday, so he must have been way too busy having a good time.

The crowd pushed past them, a little circle of space beginning to form around the group. Al noticed Scorpius' father starting to follow his son over, and although he didn't really want to meet him, he stayed put because that was the polite thing to do.

Scor's Dad was the spitting image of him. If Al had tried to imagine what Scor would look like as an adult, that was what he would have come up with. Tall and sharp, in a black suit with limp white hair like his son's and grey eyes bored into his face, Scor's Dad looked down on them with an even more prominent sneer than Scor had. Al felt a little apprehensive as he stood under his shadow. His hand gripped a briefcase with tight knuckles that Al watched cautiously, as if he was worried he would reach out and punch someone any second. He was cool and collected, qualities Scor tried to achieve but couldn't at his young age, but wizened enough to look wise but dangerous.

"Potter," he said curtly, directing it at Al's Dad. His voice sounded like a serpent focusing in on its prey. "I see you've met my son," he continued, his jawline sharp enough to cut Al's head off as he spoke. Scor looked at Al carefully, like he wasn't sure how his family would react. Al wasn't sure either, but his father smiled at Scor's Dad, not in a friendly way, but more of a simple acceptance.

"Afternoon, Malfoy. I have, just now. I think our kids have formed quite a close bond," Al's Dad replied.

Al wanted to laugh, but he didn't dare to. They hadn't formed a close bond at all, they were merely each other's pass-time. Mr Malfoy looked down at Al from his height, his silver-grey eyes ripping him apart with only a look. "Hmm," was his answer. He definitely did not approve. Even James was silent, and that was a rare occasion.

There was nothing more his Dad could say to continue the conversation. It was finished, just like that, his parent's single half-hearted attempt to get along with Al's choice in friend. "Well, we better get home, right boys?" His Dad addressed his kids. Al smiled at Scor, who smiled back despite the stony look coming from his father at their family as a whole.

"Safe journey," Mr Malfoy said. Al wasn't sure if it was a way of being nice, or something more sinister, but they didn't stop to ask. His Dad dragged them away quickly, and Al had to settle with a short wave to his friend before Mr Malfoy laid an iron grip on his son's shoulder and guided him away.