apples and scented candles • h.potter ✓

• seventeen •

But then again, there was Harry. He has defended Affrodile Zabini and fought for her trial when he had no reason to. He was sweet and generous, and yet firm in his work. Maybe being an Auror didn't necessarily have to mean being a ruthless killer.

"Corben, if you say one more word about Christmas," said Harry threateningly, and he could almost picture him brandishing his finger, "I will go to your house, kidnap you and bring you to Weasleys right away."

He laughed, but his laughter did not have the life it usually held. He faltered to a stop.

"Harry, can I say something?" he asked slowly.

"Of course."

He twirled the cable between his fingers. "You are ... quite different from how I have imagined you would be, you know?"

"Really?" He could hear the amusement in Harry's voice. "How so?"

"Well," he began, "I have imagined you as a proud, slightly haughty person who would use the I am Harry Potter card to get away from any situation. I thought you would be more – well – more condescending. I mean, you did save the entire wizarding world from destruction – I was quite surprised to see that you did not bring it up more often."

Harry chuckled. "And what do you think of me now?"

"I think you are just an adorable nincompoop who does not take anyone's crap."

There was a short pause on the other side. Then – "You think I am adorable?"

Corben couldn't find his voice for a moment, as his face flushed in embarrassment. He cleared his throat and said, "I just called you a nincompoop and you are hung up on adorable?"

"That's because I am aware that I am a nincompoop, but I wasn't aware of my adorableness."

"Well. You are."

They fell into a momentary silence, but neither seemed to want to hang up the phone. After a few seconds, Harry began to speak, telling him about his plans for Christmas and instructing him to pack a few of his clothes and be ready to leave on Christmas Eve. Corben nodded his head and just listened whilst he spoke.

"Do you know what, Harry?" asked Corben after a while. For some reason, speaking on the phone made him less hesitant about saying things he would otherwise feel shy about saying aloud. He knew he would probably regret it later, but he couldn't help it.

"What?" asked Harry when he Corben didn't elaborate.

"I really – uh – like talking to you. You are a good friend, and thank you for not turning away from me."

"Of course I wouldn't turn away from you," Harry replied, laughing slightly. "You don't have to thank me for anything. That's what friends do, right? Be with each other?"

They spoke for a few more minutes before they hung up. Corben placed the receiver back to its place and sat there, staring at the telephone intently. While he was talking, he has been able to keep himself from thinking about his mother. But now that Harry's words weren't there to soothe him, he found himself wondering, once again, about Affrodile Zabini.

How was her sentence delivered? He couldn't help but wonder. Was she hung? Or was there a potion that put her to sleep? Did one of the Aurors hit her with the killing curse? Was the death painful?

Corben was well aware of the fact that many people thought this was a just punishment for a cold-blooded murderer like her. But he couldn't get himself to agree. Sure, she has taken the lives of many people. But did that make her automatically deserving of death? No one deserved death, and he felt that it was cruel and immoral to wish death upon anyone, even upon a person like her. In many ways, a life sentence was more painful than a death sentence, for the latter was a quick end to a misery and agony that the former would undoubtedly ensure. But death – an abrupt end to a life you have lived for so many years – was too quick, too permanent.

And he couldn't wrap his head around the idea that bringing an end to a person's life was, in any way, justifiable.

There were many ways to punish a person for murder, Corben thought. But murdering a murderer as a punishment seemed a bit too contradictory to him.

Thankfully, the telephone rang just then, bringing an end to the ominous thoughts that crirculated his head.

He picked it up with a "Hello?"

It was Theo who spoke, his voice annoyed. "Where have you gone? I have been calling you for a half hour."

Corben frowned. "I have been right here." He wasn't exaggerating, for he really was sitting right next to the telephone.

"Don't lie," Theo accused. "Why didn't you pick up the phone then?"

"Oh –" he suddenly realised, "uh – I was talking to – I was on the phone. Talking to someone."

"With who?" Theo questioned. "Was it Potter?"

Corben sighed, leaning forward to rest his head over the table. "Yes, it was," he answered. "So what?"

"Are you in love with him?"

"Theo!" Corben exclaimed, and he heard Blaise exclaim the same thing at the same time on the other side of the phone.

"I'm just asking," Theo teased. "Merlin, no need to get so serious."

Corben rolled his eyes. "I'm hanging up," he threatened.

"Hanging up? What do you mean? I'm just teasing you, Corben, there's no need to hang yourself."

"I meant I am hanging up the phone," Corben nearly yelled at him. Despite the annoyance he was feeling, he couldn't help but laugh. "Putting it down. Disconnecting it so that I don't have to hear you accuse me of such preposterous claims."

"Relax, Zabini junior. You are acting just like your brother. You know, this telephone is actually nice. No more having to wait two days to get your reply."

"Told you."

"So, listen," said Theo in a businesslike manner. "Blaise was saying the other day that you have been putting too much pressure on yourself for your training. So he suggested that you come over to us on Christmas Day and just – you know – hang out. Would you like to do that?"

Corben went silent for a moment. "Blaise actually said that, or you just putting your words in his mouth?"

"He actually said that," Theo answered, sounding amused. "Didn't you, Blaise?" he cooed.

"Shut up, Nott." He heard his brother's voice coming faintly through the receiver.

Corben remained silent, feeling guilty all of a sudden.

"That's a nice offer, guys," he said quietly, feeling bad about having to decline. "But I actually have plans –"

"Since when do you have plans for Christmas?" Theo interrupted.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked you first."

"No, you misunderstood," Theo said quickly. "You can have plans obviously, but all I'm saying is that you have never bothered about Christmas before."

Corben was about to say something when he heard a scuffle on the other side. Theo protested with a "hey!" and then Blaise's voice was heard.

"Please don't tell me you have made plans with Potter," he said warningly.

Another scuffle, another protest, and Corben thought someone smacked the other. Then Theo was back. "Ignore him, Blaise," he said. "But really, is it Potter? What have you planned? Are you two going on a date?"

Corben was smiling now, but he wasn't going to satisfy Theo so easily. So instead of answering his question, he said, "I'm not entitled to answer to you, Theo."

"Hey," Theo sounded deeply offended, "you are my little brother. I have a right to –"

Corben quickly hung up the telephone and thus, didn't hear the rest of the sentence. He was still smiling – as much as Theo and Blaise's overprotectiveness annoyed him, it was still an indication that they loved and cared for him. There were certainly disadvantages of being a younger sibling, but most of the benefits made it well worth the hassle.

He loved being their little brother.