Curiosity Is Not a Sin

Albus's Guilt Trip

As a rule, Rose Weasley had very little to do with Slytherin House.

She didn't avoid Slytherin House because of its old reputation. She avoided it because she simply didn't like the qualities that defined Slytherins very much. Whatever Albus and her mother said – and they had quite a bit to say on the subject – their calculating tendencies were downright unnatural.

Gryffindors, on the other hand, were much more sensible. They did things because they wanted to, not because they thought it would get them something later. They had courage. They had nerve.

Which was why they were going to stomp the rest of the school in Quidditch again this year.

That is, assuming her teammates didn't kill her first.

Rose had been working with her friend Natalia Jordan on their Herbology assignment in the library when Natalia had asked whether Quidditch practice had been canceled.

Rose, who had not been paying very close attention to the time and consequently thought it was significantly earlier than it actually was, had cursed, stuffed her books, parchment, and quill into her bag, and beat a hasty retreat to Gryffindor Tower.

She was almost fifteen minutes late by the time she burst into the changing room. James was sitting backwards in the chair he and their cousin Roxanne had charmed two years before in honour of his being made captain. The lions that had at one point been stationary decorations were prowling up across the back of the seat; they seemed to have picked up James's impatience.

"Sorry," Rose panted, slumping against the wall next to the door and trying to catch her breath.

"Thank you for finally joining us." James's voice was flat. Rose rarely saw him without a grin on his face, but he took Quidditch very seriously.

"You're welcome." She dropped onto the wooden bench closest to the door and waited for him to start.

One of the lions had settled onto the back of James's chair. It watched them as he started talking, flicking its tail around and occasionally craning its neck to look up at the dark-haired captain.

James ran a hand through his dark hair. It was already very messy; if he'd been messing it up that much, he must have been even more irritated with Rose's tardiness than he'd showed. "We've got a great team. A winning team. I don't need to tell you that."

"But we love to hear it," their cousin Roxanne said. She was leaning forward intently, the braids she'd been toying with when Rose walked in gathered into a loose bun and completely forgotten. Rose was still not sure whether James had appointed Roxanne as his unofficial co-captain or whether Roxanne had appointed herself, but either way, they made a very good team. They had been Beaters on the team since their second year, and Rose personally thought that they were brilliant.

James smirked. "And I love to say it. At any rate, since we're obviously shoe-ins to win this year as well, I just want to put you all on notice: I want us to set records that no one will ever beat. I want us to be remembered as the best team this school has ever seen." He pounded his fist into his palm. "Now, I know that on most teams, I wouldn't need to say this, but please, let's avoid serious transgressions for the week or so preceding the match. I really don't need anyone in detention for a game."

"What if we're absolutely sure that we won't get caught?" Roxanne asked. Her dark brown eyes were shining in anticipation, and Rose wondered what plans she and James had already hatched; they'd only gotten back to school a few weeks before, but her cousins never did like to wait.

"Then I have to wonder why I'm not there with you," James shot back, and she laughed. He swung one leg over the back of the chair and stood. "Come on, we've lost enough daylight as it is, thanks to Rose."