Chapter 6 : Albus Severus Potter
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The first time I cried was when I was seven. Grandpa Arthur had suffered a heart attack – a Muggle condition and was admitted to Mungos. He was critical and everyone was crying. I think I caught Dad tearing up once and Dad never cried – not even on Vic’s birthday which most people did for some strange reason (I later found out that it was the day that Dad defeated Voldemort) – even Uncle George and Nana Molly. I never understood why that day mattered so much, until one day, Mum sat James, Lily and me down and explained to us that it was on that day that our late Uncle Fred had died – as did one of Grandpa James’ best friends Remus Lupin, better known to us as Teddy’s dad. Funnily enough, Ted never did cry – possibly because he never knew his parents either; like Dad. Anyway, I cried for the first time that day – the day they told us that the chances of Grandpa surviving the attack were very slim. That night, I saw James sneak into Grandpa’s ward and come out about an hour later. He didn’t know that I’d seen him, I had half a mind to tell my parents, but when I saw tear tracks on James’ face when he came out I kept mum. James was the guy I looked up to, when I was younger – he was like that muggle superhero Superman who could do anything, especially when he finally started doing magic. So, that day I cried for the first time.
And I haven’t cried since – not even when I learnt that Andromeda had died in her sleep one night when I was in my third year. So one morning when I found Rose curled up in front of the fire at mine and Kris’ apartment I knew something was wrong. You see, Rose was many things, she was a stubborn idiot and too passionate about all the wrong things and she, like my darling sister, fell too fast and too hard. (I don’t think I can ever forgive Malfoy for what he did to her) She was all those things, but she wasn’t one to cry unnecessarily. Now, Lily on the other hand was a whole other case. Anyway, about Rose - she was curled up in a foetal position on the ground in front of the fire. I saw tear stains on her cheeks and the front of her dress was wet – she’d either just stopped crying or had been crying in her sleep. Something told me it was both.
I sat down on the floor beside her, Indian style and took her head on to my lap. Her eyes fluttered open and I saw that they were red and swollen. Bada-bing – bulls eye. I’d been right, she’d been crying in her sleep as well. It took her a couple of seconds to orient herself, I saw that in her eyes, but once she knew where she was, she closed her eyes and took a deep shaky breath. She pushed herself off me and sat next to me on the ground, her head in her hands. We stayed like that for a while, Rose lost in her thoughts and me in mine. After about fifteen minutes , Rose looked up at me and said, “Hugo is going to die Al.”
I was speechless for about a minute after her pronouncement and I felt a thousand emotions course through me. I found myself getting angry at her, “How can you say that? He’s perfectly fine!” I told her, my tone deathly calm.
She shook her head and the tears fell and right at that moment, I felt something inside me break as she began to explain to me Hugo’s predicament. Magical blood could be a boon and a bane at the same time. If mixed with normal Muggle blood, odd things can happen that could be fatal to the witch or wizard in question. Such cases were not unknown but they were few and far in between.
I should probably start at the beginning.
It all started when we were at the last Quidditch match of the season – Chudley Canons versus the Tutshill Tornadoes. It was a known fact that Uncle Ron was a lifelong Canons fan and Hugo was now playing for the Tornadoes. Uncle Ron was supporting the Canons while Aunt Hermione, though un-interested in Quidditch after all those years, was supporting the Tornadoes, only because Hugo played for them. The weather was crap, it was pouring, nothing new for England, but the conditions were horrible and honestly, I was surprised the match wasn’t forfeited. Anyway, the entire Weasley clan had gathered in the Top Box to witness what could’ve been Hugo’s career-deciding match. In retrospect, I’d say it did decide his career after all; just not the way we’d have thought.
The rain beat against his skin as if stones were being pelted at him; at times he wondered if they were – his whole family had come to watch this match. And the rest of the world. The pressure on him to perform, especially in this match, was humungous what with this being the finals of the Quidditch League and his Captain’s last match. It was a surprise that the Canons had made it this far; especially since they’d as always, started at the bottom of the table this season. Slowly but surely, the Canons had made their way up the table to number two of the season – and here they were, facing the best team the Tornadoes’d had in years.
A gust of wind nearly threw him up into the freezing night air off his broom, but it was the vice-tight grip that he had on his broom that prevented that from happening. He looked at the stands and saw his entire family seated in the top box. They noticed him looking at them and began waving furiously all a once – it looked so comical he couldn’t help but grin at them. He always felt as if he never fit in. All his cousins, even his aunts and uncles, had done such great things – some had saved the world from evil Dark Lords, some were the best Quidditch players for their respective teams and others owned the best-selling joke shops in the entirety of Britain – the pressure and expectations were often too much for Hugo to take. It didn’t matter what he did, someone before him had already done it.
A roar rose up from the crowd and he looked away from his family only to see that the Canons had scored. He rand a hand through his mussed up hair, exasperated. They were down 120-90 to the Canons. He couldn’t believe they were losing to the team that had ended god knew how many seasons at the bottom of the table – until this one that is. A quick glance in the direction of the top box confirmed his fears – his father was rooting for the Canons after all. Involuntarily, he felt himself hang his neck in defeat – he’d never be good enough – not ever. Heaving a sigh, he made his way back to the top, above everyone else so he could have a clear view of the whole stadium.
All of a sudden a strong burst of wind almost threw him off his broom, once again. But this time, he wasn’t as lucky. He felt himself being pulled where the wind took him and what felt like days later, he hit the ground and everything went black.
I felt my heart stop beating for a second as Rose got to the part about the complication.
“The Healer said that it was the blood that we’d used for transfusing that had caused the disease, Al. It was all because of the bloody Muggle. Him and his affected blood.” Rose spat, venom seeping through every word she spoke. “In the hurry to save Hugo’s life because he’d been lost for so long and left un-attended, they didn’t bother to check if the Muggle’s blood would be okay to save his life – and look where that’s gotten us now.”
“Rose!” I admonished, not believing what she was saying.
She shook her head and said, “Look, I know how this sounds. I know I sound like Moldy Pants. Guess what, Al? I don’t freaking care! My brother is dying and I can’t freaking do anything about it!”
I shook my head and began to say something, but the words died in my throat as I saw Rose puch herself off the ground and walked away from me.
Rose never walked away from me.
A/N: SO SORRY. I've been gone for how long, almost a year? I'm so sorry, I completely lost inspiration for this story and for writing anything at all. :( But I'm back, crappy stuff coming up, I'm afraid. I hope you liked this! ^_^
A new James(II)/OC coming up, btw. Should be up as soon as this gets validated! ^_^ Look out for it!
P.S: WHO ELSE LOVES ONE DIRECTION?! AREN'T THEY THE MOST ADORABLE BOY-BAND ON THIS EARTH?! <3333 yes, I'm obsessed :P