A/N: This chapter is dedicated to GinnyJeanLovegood because (he/she? i dont know) was like my first reader and every update you're supporting and continuing to read so thank you so much!! It really means a lot, you have no idea :) Thank you so much <3
Anyway, enjoy!
"If this behaviour continues, boys, I may have to call your parents in to talk to them myself," Stanford growled, his eyes popping out his forehead as he glared down and Scor and Al. They sheepishly hung their heads. Al felt Scorpius stiffen beside him at the mention of his parents. Did Stanford not care that those idle threats might hurt Scor, more than any number of detentions? Al almost wanted to blurt out something very rude to put his Professor in his place, but he was too timid to do it.
It wasn't even their fault that they were in there anyway. It was Sylvian, that boy in their dorm. In the background they could still hear frog-like croaks accompanied by sobs that were hard to keep a straight face to.
"You never work. I have had multiple complaints from your teachers saying you do not pay attention in class. Before you've been caught playing these pranks, and now you have hexed a fellow student! Have you anything to say for yourselves?" Stanford snapped, little flecks of spit cascading over his too-tidy desk.
Al frowned, anger building up inside him like an engulfing red smoke. This man literally had no idea, he had no right to tell them off. It was so unfair. "It was Sylvian's own fault," he said quickly, blushing pink as Scor stared at him with wide eyes. "He told Scorpius that-"
Al's ribs were met with a hard poke from the skinny, pale boy next to him. He stopped abruptly, but Stanford continued to fix his icy stare onto him.
"He told him what? Hmm?" Stanford folded his arms in defiance. "Because in my view, nothing, absolutely nothing he could have said gave you the right to attempt to Transfigure him into a frog."
Scorpius sniggered, his eyes squeezed shut, facing the floor. Al pressed his lips together, trying desperately not to laugh along.
"This is not funny!" Stanford shouted, his hand meeting the desk, hard, making all the documents almost jump. A piece of his dark hair fell into his eye, which he brushed away briskly. The smiles were immediately wiped clean off their faces. Stanford took a second to collect himself as their heartbeats sped up. He wouldn't really call their parents in, right?
"I am going to be writing to your families later. You will both be in detention every evening for the rest of the week, and you must report to Professor McGonagall tomorrow with me. I'll give you a time in advance, but for now I will go and prepare her for an inevitably nasty conversation she will be having with you. Let me remind you, one more prank and your parents will be in, and if you prove to much trouble, you'll be leaving with them," he snarled, dismissing Al and Scorpius. They trailed out pathetically, dragging their robes over the floor and staying silent until they'd rounded the next corner.
Al took one look at Scor, and they both cracked up.
"Did you hear him croaking outside?"
"Madam Pomfrey was going nuts,"
"I'm so glad it only half worked,"
Scor grinned wildly. "I can't believe you thought we would get away with it. You're such a flippin' idiot, Al."
His white blonde hair fell into his eyes in a limp slump, and he pushed it out again. Al noticed for the first time that his eyebrows were almost transparent; unlike his father's that had looked very prominent when Al met him. He stared for a moment at the thin, white hairs before answering Scorpius with something that made the grin wash off his friend's face.
"We should be more careful next time, though. I don't want my Mum to have to come in."
Scorpius went even whiter than usual. Al instantly regretted the 'M' word. Scorpius had been much worse about Muggleborns since he found out about his mother. The colour seemed to drain from his green eyes slowly, leaving them a grey, watery mess. Al imagined the inside of his mind churning and tumbling like cogs that had something in the way of their natural movement, something wrong and alien. "No," he spoke quietly. "Don't want that. Maybe we should behave,"
Thinking about it, behaving seemed like it would be the only way they could get in the good books of the Professors. Long evenings in the library instead of in detention, paying attention in class instead of whispering to Scor about that weird Hufflepuff girl that kept staring at them or laughing at the teacher, not having any fun outside class, never messing about.
Al didn't know what Scor thought, but it sounded pretty awful to him. "Nah," he said. "They won't expel us or get our parents in," he reassured his friend, sounding as confident as he could. "Our families won't have time anyway. They're just threatening us," he finished. His mind swapped to his father at Hogwarts, something that had been at the front of his mind earlier on in the year. Now it was unimportant. He was in Slytherin, and the rest of his family were in Gryffindor. He was the black sheep, but it was nicer that way. For one he wouldn't have become friends with Scorpius. That guy was a flipping nightmare at times, but he was fun to be around. He knew if he'd been in Gryffindor he would be following his brother and Rose everywhere, studying and being good. He could literally envision himself being the perfect son, a trail of self-discipline behind his brother, in a shadow his whole life. Inevitably he'd become an Auror or work at the Ministry at least.
But in Slytherin, Al was nobody's tail but his own. He'd never even consider being an Auror- he hated Defence Against the Dark Arts. No, Transfiguration was his thing. He was pretty good at it too, and McGonagall almost never set essays. Perhaps there was a job where he could transfigure assholes like Sylvian into real pigs for the slaughter. He was still angry at that idiot. Who in their right mind would suggest to Scor that he was the reason his parents were breaking up? Al knew that idea wouldn't be leaving his head any time soon, in fact, he was probably considering it now.
The door to the green-tinged room that was the Slytherin dormitory. They never actually left it apart from to go to lessons, Hagrid's, or some part of the school involving something fun for them to get in trouble for. All thoughts of visiting James or Rose or Sam had long disappeared from Al's head. He never even talked to Sam nowadays, and it didn't bother him.
Scorpius flopped on a sofa and pulled a black pillow onto his lap, hitting it inconsistently. He did this a lot, and it was quite irritating.
"Hagrid's later?" Scor asked, bringing out a green apple from his pocket and taking a large bite.
Al shrugged. "If we do, let's bring Matilda," he said, wincing in preparation for Scor's attack.
"Why do we have to bring the Mudblood?" He moaned, rolling his head back over the top of the sofa. Al stayed still and strong.
"Hagrid wants to meet her, too. I told him that we were like a trio and-"
"We are not like a trio," Scor groaned, cutting his eyes like knives into Al's.
"We are," Al dismissed him quickly. "Remember how you didn't want to meet Hagrid because he was a half-breed? Maybe you could give Matilda a chance like you gave him," he said. Al was getting cross with Scor's attitude now. If he couldn't bring himself to accept Matilda because the only thing he didn't like was that she was Muggleborn, Al would just take her alone, down to Hagrid, and leave Scor by himself.
Scor's face hardened. "You don't know how hard it was to-"
"Being Muggleborn is not a bad thing!" Al snapped, something inside of him finally breaking. It came out as a shout, even though it wasn't meant to be quite so loud and oppressive. His words hung in the air like smoke, still present, fogging up their vision but leaving enough space for the two of them to look at each other slowly and persistently, warring philosophies at work in their heads coming up with excuses.
"Yes it is," Scor said quietly, with less assurance than normal. It wasn't the first time they'd had an argument about this, but it was the first time Al had taken such a stand.
"No," he said bluntly. "They are people. They are accepted nowadays, and you're about twenty years behind your age because you let your Dad put all these stupid ideas into you head."
Scorpius looked at him with wide eyes. Al was surprised at all this wisdom coming out of his mouth without him really having to think his words through, but he knew in that moment he'd be paying for this outburst for weeks. So what. Scor's attitude was absolutely ridiculous. Making such a fuss over one trivial little thing like his mother's blood wasn't even relevant in the modern world.
Al stood up in the deathly silence that followed. "I'm going to Hagrid's, and I'm going to find Matilda and bring her. You can come if you want," he told him. Scor continued to look up at him blankly, as if nobody had ever told him he was wrong before. He really disliked this aspect of him. Sometimes Scor was just a little too self-righteous for his own good.
Al didn't let him reply. He left his words to marinate in Scor's mind, and marched out of the common room, his robe flowing between his knees as he walked.