Chapter 17
Albus
Al woke up with a jolt in the middle of the night. He was sweating like it was a thousand degrees, breathes uneven, hands trembling, it was as if he woke up from a horrible nightmare. But it wasn't a nightmare, it was a memory. The memory that holds the reason why he's here; the memory that holds the identities of the wizards who placed him here.
But why remember now? He's been torturing his head to remember the said events, and it was clear that they erased his memories, why remember. He needs to tell someone, but before that he needs to think.
He frantically made his way out his current bedroom, grabbing his glasses and second hand jacket along the way. He maneuvered his way in the dark, stumbling his way down the stairs in process, and bumping into a lot of furniture, but managed to find his way out the porch.
He sat down, still trembling, still breathing like he ran a thousand miles.
Thinking that the trembling was caused by the cold temperature, Al cupped his hands and blew air into his hands. But it didn't work; instead he intertwined his hands as if he was praying just to stop the trembling. Still it was useless, how can he stop the trembling from his hands when his body was in the same situation.
Goyle, He thought. Goyle did this, he did this to me.
He should have noticed that having Goyle freed in Azkaban is a bad sign. He should have told his father that it was a bad idea, but no, he ignored it and look what happened.
He was going to die, and no one will know.
He's scared, heck he was beyond scared. He knew that without Snape's potion he wouldn't be feeling like this, he shouldn't have agreed to take it in the first place. This memory, this freaking memory triggered the damn potion again, and now he's in his worse state.
He wanted to scream in frustration, he wanted to cry because his scared, he wanted someone to be with him at the moment. He wants to go home, he wants his family. He wants help even though his grandfather was doing his best to save him. But, heck, he was still scared.
He wants his parents to be here with him, he wants to be with the only people who feels safe, he wants to be with the person who was always there to send him encouraging letters whenever he faces a Quiditch match, he wants to be with the person who gave him his first broomstick. He wants his father.
Because he's scared.
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Harry
Harry opened his eyes.
He was having a nice dream for ones and it was interrupted because he needed to use the toilet. Grumbling, he grabbed his glasses and made his way out his bed and out his current bedroom.
It was easy to find the toilet considering that it was a room away from him, but he still ended up bumping a few furnishings on the way. Harry was rubbing the drowsiness away from his eyes as he made his way out the toilet, only to notice that someone else was awake.
He caught a whiff of a bright red head making its way down the stairs, only to trip at the bottom part.
Thinking that it was Ron, Harry followed it out the porch. But ones he was out, cold air bit his skin and, to his disappointment, found that it was Al instead of Ron. Automatically, Harry hugged himself to keep some body heat for himself.
He still held a grudge towards Al, and nothing was ever going to change that. The boy was a fake, he's a liar, and everyone's seems to not notice. Why are people so dense ones things are obviously staring right in their faces?
Harry watched the younger boy in the middle of the night, with nothing but the moon illuminating the scene before him. But what Harry saw took him aback, the boy was visibly troubled, he was trembling head to toe and was blowing unevenly onto his cupped hands. And even in the cold weather, he saw that Al's red hair was sticking on his head because of the amount of sweat he was releasing. It was obvious that the boy just had a terrible nightmare and Harry was trying his best not to feel sorry for the other boy, but he just can't.
The image in front of him sent a pang pain towards him. It wasn't physically, but he was hurting just seeing Al tremble. Harry clenched his fist; he shouldn't be feeling like this. It's not like he's anything special to him, this boy is a liar, why is he having such jumbled emotions toward him?
Harry stiffened as he heard it, it was soft and low, and if you weren't listening carefully you would've missed it. But Harry heard it, he heard it clearly. "I'm scared."
Harry watched the thirteen year old boy in front of him as he ran both his hands over his bright red hair. Harry watched at Al's hand reached the hair near the back of his neck and clenched a fist full of it. It wasn't clear whether Al would start pulling his hair out because he stayed it that way. The only thing that you could hear was the loud uneven breathing of the younger boy.
Harry wasn't moving, he even forgot the fact that he was freezing.
"I'm scared." The younger boy said ones again that made Harry hold his breath.
What could have made this boy so scared? Voldemort? Everyone's scared; he's not the only one. But it doesn't look like that was the problem, because all of a sudden Harry heard Al crying, begging for someone to help him.
"Dad, I'm scared." The boy said.
Suddenly, Harry's hand was slowly reaching out for him, but stopped inches away. His eyes stayed at the young boy in front, he was debating whether to comfort him or not. He was confused, not the boy, but him.
Everything is confusing.
Harry closed his eyes and left, he doesn't need to torture himself and help this boy.
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Albus
"How was your sleep?"
Al looked up and saw Mr. Weasley standing in front of him, holding a basket of chicken feed. Al shrugged, not knowing what to answer. His eyes trailed at the snow slowly melting on Mr. Weasley's cloak. It was Christmas morning, usually Al would be looking forward for presents he received from his parents or aunts and uncles. But today, he wasn't looking forward that much.
Al took his usual spot at the front porch the next morning. In fact he didn't actually take it; he never left the spot since last night. And here he was, sitting on one of the coldest morning outside. His fingers were numb, including his toes, but stayed at the spot, he never left. He was too shaken up at the revelation he had last night.
He made the decision not to tell it to anyone but Dumbledore. He had this weird feeling to keep it a secret. It was stupid really, but for some odd reasons he trust his instincts, which usually doesn't end up well.
"Would you mind telling Snape I won't take any of his potions, ever." Al said.
Mr. Wealsey gave out an audible chuckle as he sat down next to Al. "I can't really do that, you need that potion."
"I don't want it." Al retorted back, where he only received another chuckle.
"You've been saying that for a lot of time." Mr. Weasley said. "And I have the letters to prove it. But seriously Al, I'm not the one to decide what to do, I don't have the plan remember?"
Al cupped is hands and blew air towards his mouth, the heat suddenly made him realize that he was freezing like he just spent his last hour in a freezer. "I just don't think I need it anymore."
"Right, so you spent your night here outside because you don't need that potion anymore— don't act like your shocked, no one goes out wearing their pajamas, Al." Mr. Weasley said. "And doing the chore of sneaking in your room to place your gifts is pretty much an explanation you spent your night outside."
"You're wearing your pajamas." Al pointed out. "And it's because of that potion, that was the reason I was freezing myself outside."
"First, I'm also wearing a cloak." Mr. Weasley said. "Second, in time your emotions will be maintained, not all jumbled up. Don't tell me you haven't noticed anything. When was the last time you said something insulting without realizing it? When was the time you felt that potion suddenly kick in?" Al was about to reply. "Exclude the thing last night." Mr. Weasley added.
Al rubbed his eyes. "I know that it's helping me, but my situation won't really change if that thing was gone. Things just keeps getting worse because of that potion."
Mr. Weasley stared at him.
"I know grand mum doesn't really know how to react around me, everyone does." Al said. "You shouldn't keep that information a secret you know."
"What?"
"Dumbledore told me that I may still have some emotional connection to people I'm really close to, Don't tell me you don't know."
"No not really." Mr. Weasley said. "That's news actually, no wonder Molly has been this weird around you."
"Granddad," Al called. "What should I do?"
"Just keep taking that potion and be yourself."
"I don't really know who I am these days."
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Harry
"I don't want to bring that subject up, Hermione." Harry said through the muggle phone he borrowed from Mr. Weasley.
Hermione sent an owl for Harry, saying that he needs to call her immediately. He thought it was something important, but all she wanted to talk about is Al. Honestly, Harry had enough of Al, all he wanted to figure out this instant is Draco. Ever since they realized they have some weird feelings with Al, Hermione won't drop the subject. (Harry told them he was feeling the same thing, leaving the fact that his is rather like a father feeling.) Even when Ron started dating Lavender, Hermione won't stop.
It's the S.P.E.W.S. all over again.
"We have to talk about it." Hermione's voice rang through the speaker. "Don't you think this is something to talk about, instead of Draco being a Death Eather?"
"Draco is none of your business at the moment." Harry growled, it was early in the morning and she's pestering him. He should be annoying Ron, because his gift from Lavender is worth laughing at. "And weren't you searching for the Prince?"
"I haven't given up on that yet either, I just thought this is rather important to talk."
"Just forget it." Harry said. "I asked Fred and George what they feel about Al, and it seems like George the only one feeling dodgy about him. It means not every one of us is what you think, maybe this is just because he's new here." Even Harry was sure no one would be convinced from the way he said it.
"Harry, this is serious."
"Drop it Hermione." Then Harry hung up.
Al, Albert, whoever he is, Harry has enough. He doesn't care anymore, the important thing right now is Draco and the things he must be prepared in facing the Dark Lord. Al is nothing but a drawback. Starting from now, he doesn't care anything about Al.
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A/N: Sorry short chapter, i lost the will of writing a few months back. But look at the bright side, I finally updated, but I'm not promising that my next update would be long.... or would it be publish in the next couple of days.
So sorry, but no matter what, I'm 100% sure I'll finish this story. It won't be one of those that gets left behind.