The school was still buzzing about the Hufflepuff victory that Sunday. Topics of discussion ranged between Albus’ arm, and Scorpius fearlessness, and “Merlin,  did Hufflepuff actually beat someone?”

When the owls came, there was a surprise for Albus.

Nox swooped down, dropped a Daily Prophet beside his plate, and gave him the give-me-some-toast-or-face-consequences glare.

He read the headlines while the bird nibbled a toast corner. He got so engrossed with the article, that he got nipped.

"Ouch!"

Owls are not capable of rolling their eyes, but Nox gave the impression with a circular head bob and then took off gracefully, heading back to the owlery. He buzzed a ducking and scowling James at the Gryffindor table on the way. Nox had never forgiven Albus' brother for that fake-owlery-door prank three months ago.

Albus needed a distraction.

After leaving the Hospital Wing the night before, and before attending an impromptu celebration in the Cellar, he had strolled out on the grounds and tossed that ancient Leprechaun coin into the lake.

After the Hufflepuff victory party, he had gone back to the bunkroom only to see the coin wetting the top blanket on his bed. Kublai was eyeing it from Scorpius' bed with a wary interest.

Albus had then placed it in the bottom of his trunk and tried to get some sleep. When he awoke the next morning, it was under his pillow.

"Is that the Prophet?" Scorpius asked, settling in beside him, fresh from the Hospital Wing. His arms, still bandaged, but not as thickly dressed.

Rose was on Albus' other side, yawning and beastly, as usual in the morning. She leaned in to read the paper as Albus spread it out so they all three could see.

  Strange Happenings at Hogwarts

By Nita Skeeter

It has recently come to my attention that there are some strange goings-on at the castle on the hill.

First of all, brace yourself; there is a Malfoy in Hufflepuff.

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is not only in the House of the Badger, but is a first-year Seeker on the Quidditch Team, and a top student in most of his classes. It is no secret that Lucius Malfoy is not amused.

Secondly, do not read on if you have a heart condition, there is a Potter in Hufflepuff as well!

Albus Severus Potter, the second son of the man some call great, Harry Potter, is also in that most humble of Hogwarts Houses. He is also a first year Chaser. So, count them, two first-years made the Quidditch team. Unprecedented!  While he is not one of the top students grade wise, he has been at the centre of some rather interesting incidents.

Third, but you can believe me, no less significant. The Weasley family tradition going back for seven generations has been broken. Rose Caroline Weasley is also in Hufflepuff with her cousin! She, and Mister Malfoy, seems to be at or near the top in every academic category. One does wonder if that is all in which they are close.

Since Hufflepuff decisively beat Slytherin in Quidditch yesterday, primarily because of, by all accounts, a brilliant Snitch catch by Mr Malfoy, one wonders if this is a new day for Hufflepuff?

It certainly is already for the Potter, Weasley, and Malfoy families!

Rose was not amused.

"What a hack! The nerve of her trying to start rumours that me and Scorpius are together!"

Scorpius looked green. "I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. Yes, that's what that was."

Rose glared at him scathingly. "You don't have to act so disgusted!"

While they bickered, Albus' eyes swept the room. It was as he feared; there were Daily Prophet papers on almost every table. The glares and sniggers were already beginning.

"Not good," he murmured.

That week was a nightmare. It seemed every class with the Gryffindors and Slytherins turned into an endurance contest. Albus had to endure the asides, “Here there comes Harry Potter...junior.” Rose and Scorpius dealt with kissing noises, and idle speculation within their earshot, that had Rose blasting people so often with her collection of Uncle Ron invectives, that she had to go to Madam Pomfrey with a serious jaw cramp.

Albus sent off an owl to his dad to see who leaked the story to the Prophet, but any inquiries his father made to the young reporter who posted the story, Nita Skeeter, were prefaced with a request for interviews with the three young students. He declined. He then informed Albus that he had met Nita's mother, and that if the daughter was like her dame, Albus needed to careful whom he talked to for the next while.

Of course, his dad did not have to listen to the gossip, and the requests for autographs that Albus and his two friends were enduring.

James had a different reaction. He seemed to be so livid he would not even look Albus in the eye. Every time Albus tried to talk to him he walked by stiff with anger. This was confusing to Albus. He and James, not the closest of brothers, granted, had never been enemies before.

Rose declared that James was a git, and Albus should just ignore him. Scorpius did not offer an opinion, because he did not have siblings. Rose seemed to think he should just go along with her, which caused yet another fight.

Albus asked Dominique and Fred about it, but evidently, James had been so surly to them, they were not speaking to him either. Molly and Lucy just shrugged and popped a bubble, which for them, was akin to the statement, “He’s being a git so we’re ignoring him.”

This and the article, as well as the midterm exams coming up, had Albus' stomach so torn up, he spent most of that Friday in the Hospital Wing alongside the usual weekend hypochondriacs.

He finally felt well enough to leave in time for his lesson with Uncle Neville.

Neville's office was on the fourth floor of the Arboretum. It had, like most things in that enclosure, three walls of glass with plants pressing in on both sides. It was spacious with shelves of Herbology texts and reference books covering the walls, and an old beat up desk in front of the only solid wall. He had pictures in the spaces not covered with books. Aunt Hannah and Neville were waving from most of them, as happy a couple as there is in the world. A severe, serious formidable looking witch was glowering down from a large portrait behind the desk; she had, of all things, a moth-eaten stuffed vulture on her hat. A kind, grey-haired witch with flyaway hair, and heavily patched hat and robes, beamed warmly down from another portrait with a bit of dirt on the end of her nose. There was only one portrait on Neville's desk. It was of a smiling, short, round-faced woman and a tall handsome man; both had Neville's features. Albus had heard of Alice and Frank Longbottom from Rose, but he was told by his mum to never ask his uncle about them.

When Albus arrived, Uncle Neville was pruning a plant very carefully, his spectacles on the end of his nose. The plant was not making the task easier, it giggled and moved its branches.

"Hold on now, be still. You want some buds this spring, don't you?" he remarked as he grasped one little limb carefully and snipped. The little plant slapped him in the nose.

"Alright now! You want a trip to the Arctic Room?" he threatened. The little plant settled down, and he finished his work.

As he cleaned the clippings off the desk surface, he inquired of Albus, "I hear tell that you've been getting draughts for your stomach from Madam Pomfrey? Panic attacks?"

He stared across his desk at Albus, over his spectacles. He looked a bit ridiculous, so Albus could not help but smile.

Albus took a deep breath, and then reported, "It's just James. He's acting all mental, and I don't know why. It's really bothering me."

Neville took off his specs and rubbed his eyes a bit. He finally stared at Albus, and asked, "Why is this different from any other time you've not gotten along? You two are usually at each other’s throats at the get-togethers."

Albus sighed. "I don't know. When he's mad at me I usually have an idea why, or I'm happy about it. I guess it's always been okay to me, because I was sure he didn’t hate me or something."

Neville suddenly looked very grave. "James doesn't hate you; I'd stake my life on that."

"Then what's going on?" Albus blurted, tears springing to his eyes. He wiped them angrily away. Throwing up, crying, bad stomach. What a hero!

Neville held out a hanky to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. He waited until Albus composed himself. "Better?"

Albus nodded as he handed the hanky back over. Neville held it gingerly in his middle and index finger like it was sopping wet...then with a flick it lengthened and stiffened into his wand. As if nothing had occurred, he placed it on his desktop. He steepled his fingers, patiently studying Albus' blotchy face as Albus composed himself.

"He's scared, you know."

Albus sniffled wiping his nose on the back of his hand then snottily demanded, "Of what?"

Neville's gaze was calm. "Of you, of course."

Albus shot up straight in the chair. "What? He's been pounding on me since we took baths together as kids."

Neville chuckled. "Further back than that, remember, I was there when you both were in your nappies. I changed them a time or two! Let me tell you, I routinely deal with Troll fertilizer, but your two little bums stank!"

"Uncle Neville! Honestly!" Albus admonished, scandalized.

Neville's eyes twinkled. "Have you ever wondered why some of the time your brother is trying to torture you, and the other time he is trying to get there before you, then yet another time he is trying to make you feel small?"

Albus nodded.

Neville sighed. "He is afraid of you."

He had Albus full attention and he knew it. His eyes rolled to the ceiling as if he could see his memory projected there.

"James was more than the first-born. He was the first-born Potter. He was on every major magazine cover in the Isle, and front page of most of the papers. Everywhere your parents went, James was more popular than they were."

Albus was floored. "I didn't know all that."

Neville smiled. "I know. However, you see, he was a little over a year old, and starting to walk, when his mum started getting big again. Suddenly, she was rushed to St. Mungo’s in pre-mature labour. In all of the rush, James wound up our place with Hannah and me. He didn't see his dad for four days. He didn't see his mum for a week."

Albus was aghast. "Why? Did they forget him?"

Neville shook his head. "Oh, no. They owled everyday, but James cried non-stop.He didn't understand what was happening. Then, he was allowed to go to St. Mungo’s to see his mum. Next thing he knew, he was being shown an incubator with a tiny little boy in it struggling to breath, and was told that that little boy was the reason Mummy was in the hospital. Do you want to know what his reaction was?"

Albus smiled ruefully. "Probably violent."

Neville chuckled. "He smacked the incubator, caused you to cry. They all got upset with him, and he had to leave. That was the first time he picked on you."

Albus sat for a moment in quiet contemplation. "So he hated me from the start."

Neville rolled his eyes. "No. He didn't hate you, he was afraid of you."

Albus was frustrated. "You keep saying that, but I don't believe it."

Neville's eyes bored into Albus'. "Your brother's earliest memories were of everybody telling Harry that Albus has his eyes, of everyone calling his little brother ‘Harry Junior’. Of his little brother being an even bigger object of attention than he ever was. If he drew crowds, Albus, you drew mobs. Everybody wanted to see Harry Potter's little green-eyed doppelganger. They seemed to forget there were two boys. James went from centre of attention, to the other Potter boy, in less than two years.

Now Albus, think of what's happening now.

He always wanted to be in Gryffindor like his dad, he believed that was expected of him. You show up and land in Hufflepuff, and happily defy that tradition.

He believed he was to be the family’s best hope for a Quidditch star, because you were afraid to fly, and hated heights. He knew he was the best Seeker candidate in Gryffindor this year, and did not even try out last year because first years are too young. Next thing he knows, you suddenly show up, knowing how to fly, beat Molly and Lucy the best flyers among the grandchildren in a race, and make the Quidditch team against all odds. Not only that, but you are rather decent at it.

James believes that all Slytherins are bad, and all of his father's enemies are supposed to be his enemies. You make friends with the son of the man who was his father's biggest foil. All these things are happening, and he sees your dad accepting them, and respecting you for breaking the mould that James has been using to shape himself.

“And now, after he never made front page his entire Hogwarts first year, something his dad managed with regularity, he sees this Prophet article, on you. “Do you blame him for being afraid of you?"

Albus sat in silence. He did not know what to say. He managed to nod.

"Is there anything I can do to make it easier on him?" he finally murmured.

Neville shook his head. "He's going to have to deal with this on his own, just know, he doesn't hate you."

"Why not, I would! After what you've told me, I'm surprised he hasn't tried to murder me in my sleep!" Albus spat out.

Neville looked like he was debating something in his head. Then he nodded to himself. "Are you curious to know why you haven't been pranked by anyone but James and Fred?"

Albus suddenly realized that he was right. He nodded.

Neville's face was solemn. "He put the word out that nobody was to touch a hair on your head."

Albus scoffed. "He's just a second year. Nobody's going to take him seriously."

Neville laughed. "He and Fred are the Hogwarts representative of Tri-W products. They have a lot more pull than you know."

Albus grinned. "You know about that?"

Neville shook his head exasperated. "I know about it, but they've gotten good at smuggling. I haven't caught them at it for some time. I know they've got a lot of customers, I've confiscated enough of your Uncle George's merchandise, but they always seem to know where I am, and where to hide the contraband."

Albus sighed. He did feel better. "So James doesn't hate me."

Neville grinned. "No, he doesn't hate you. He just doesn't know what to think. He will come around; give it time."

Uncle Neville got up and walked over to a bookcase directly behind his desk. He waved his wand, and the shelves slid back revealing an ominous grey safe door.

He reached out and traced one finger in a pattern on the door surface. Albus heard thousands of little clicks and the door popped open. "Some Gringotts Goblins installed this door. Of course, I immediately changed the combination."

Neville walked into the vault enclosure, which was surprisingly spacious. Albus walked to the entrance as his Uncle walked down a short flight of stairs, and retrieved Albus's wand off a stack of shelves to his left. Albus' eye was drawn to something reflecting bright red in the vault's overhead lighting.

It was James' SkyBolt gleaming and shiny, on a wall rack. Albus was so entranced tracing the lines that he did not hear Neville walk up.

"Hands off. You're the enemy, remember."

Albus' hand snapped guiltily to his side as if he was caught red-handed, "Shouldn't it be in the broom shed?" he stammered.

Neville ushered Albus out, and closed the door before responding.

"That's the prototype. Your dad had to promise to keep it safe before they'd give it to him to try out. Besides, down in the broom shed, the whole student body would be rubbing their grubby little paws all over it." He looked over spectacles at Albus for emphasis.

Albus' face flushed, even though he knew he was being put on.

Uncle Neville handed his wand to him. Albus felt the joy of the reunion of hand and wand running up his arm. Neville watched him with an amused look on his face.

"Actually, you've worn me out with all this talking. Take the blasted thing and get out."

Albus felt such excitement he was barely able to contain it. "You really mean it?"

Uncle Neville nodded toward the door.  "Try not to upset any more Bludgers, or Dark Lords please."

Albus almost skipped back to the Cellar.

The next day was Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor and it was everything Albus had feared.

It was a slaughter.

Ravenclaw's tight formations and pin point accuracy was blasted to shreds by his cousin Fred and Fergus Finnigan, and when they did get through, Grayson Wood showed he was a chip off of the old block. Molly and Lucy were a swirling Quaffle assault on Elanor Ferraro, with Dominique blending in seamlessly, as they dodged Isla Pettit and Ashton Gully's Bludgers effortlessly. Lilith LeBlanc was outclassed on her Nimbus Millennium, James literally toyed with her, letting her dive for the Snitch and beating her to it and blocking.

It was obvious that the strategy was to run up the score, then catch the Snitch when the season was out of sight for the other teams. "The Banshee" had other plans. She executed a perfect Wronski Feint and James was almost to the other ring before he heard her trademark wail. She was closing in on the Snitch, causing everyone to flinch from her unearthly howl. James spun on a knut and tore back, showing the SkyBolt's astonishing speed. Albus thought he saw the air boil in the brooms wake as it rocketed by. Lilith had nearly grasped the Snitch when James' hand shot out.

Krum signalled the end of the game. Fred was livid. The score was just 300-20. He glared at James, all through the chaos of the red and gold crowd carrying the younger boy out of the Pitch.

Albus saw James' smile; his brother did not realize that his team was disgusted with him yet. Their eyes met as James was being carried by. Albus nodded at him and smiled. James grinned happily and winked.

The Pitch cleared out. Six people sat in the stands glumly listening to the happy Gryffindors heading back to the castle. Diana sighed and walked out, the Sisters and Corny followed suit leaving Albus, Roderick and Scorpius.