Second Chances

Damien managed to more or less avoid most everyone for the better part of the week. He retreated to his lonely seat at the Slytherin table and made a point of steering clear of his dad and Harry outside of classes. On Thursday morning, Sera joined him for breakfast, but as he was sullen and uncommunicative, she decided not to try the venture again. He would, she knew, climb back out of his self-imposed solitude when he felt the time was right.

Saturday came at last, bringing with it the long-awaited Quidditch tryouts. Almost the entire school, staff and students alike, turned out to watch, hoping for some revelation regarding the mysterious notices and the changes made to the tryout schedule. No great mystery was revealed, and the team captains kept mum about which candidates would land a spot on their teams.

On Sunday morning, another round of notices went up. The notices quickly drew large crowds as students lingered to discuss them.

"What's all this then?" Ella Weasley asked, elbowing her way past a crowd of her fellow Gryffindors so that she could catch a glimpse of the notice.

"Team rosters," someone answered. "Only they don't seem to make much sense."

"Let me see then," Ella demanded. When no one moved to let her have a clear view of the notice, she heaved a sigh and squeezed in between the two smallest and most easily moved people in the group. She snatched the notice from the board, ignoring the loud protests of the small crowd, and began to read aloud.

"'Quidditch Roster. Black Team, headed by Captain Armand Delacour, Keeper. Seeker: Rand McDermott; Beaters Leona Huff and Damien Malfoy....' Wait a minute! Malfoy's in Slytherin. This can't be right."

"And Huff's in Ravenclaw," Armand supplied helpfully from where he lounged on the common room sofa.

"I don't think I understand."

"Oh, come now. I know you aren't -that thick," Armand teased.

"But....why? No, not why. How?"

"I don't think the particulars are public knowledge," Armand replied, giving his cousin a look that promised he'd fill in the blanks in private, "but it's rumoured that a couple of students presented the idea to Wood, and he presented it to the Headmistress. Professor McGonagall thought it would be another good step in tearing down the house rivalries, so here we are."

"That's bloody brilliant!" Ella crowed. She turned her eyes back to the paper. Her face fell as she continued to read.

"What's wrong?" Armand asked, vaulting over the back of the sofa and making his way to Ella's side.

"I made Chaser," she replied tonelessly.

"Isn't that a good thing?" her younger cousin, Lauren, chimed in.

"I'm on the Brown team," Ella said in the same flat voice.

"And?" Armand prompted.

"And you're not. Neither is Damien. In fact, I don't know a single one of my team-mates," she explained, crumpling the notice in one fist.

Armand gently pried the notice out of Ella's hand and gave it to one of the other Gryffindors who was waiting for a turn to look it over. He put his arm around his cousin's shoulders. "Well, you'll get to know them. That's part of what this is about - getting to know the students in other houses, working together, and all that." He gave her a little squeeze.

"It just isn't what I expected," Ella said with a sigh. "Sera will be thrilled though."

"She isn't the only one," a second-year boy chimed in. "I made Keeper for the White team. I wasn't even sure why I was trying out, what with Armand playing for Gryffindor. But I made a team!"

Ella managed a smile then; the bright-eyed boy's joy was infectious. She took a deep breath. "Well. I wonder when practice starts."

*

Armand's Quidditch team - the Black team - began training later the same day. He was a little worried about having Damien on his team because of the unresolved issues between them, but he had chosen the boy because Damien was a strong player and would be an asset to the team.

As it turned out, Armand's fears were unfounded. Damien handled himself like a seasoned professional, setting aside his personal life to focus completely on the game. The players would need time to adjust to working together as a team, but by and large the practice was an overwhelming success. He dismissed his players a little earlier than he had planned as a reward for working hard and working well.

After the others had gone, Armand sat in the changing rooms making notes for future practices. When a shadow fell across his parchment, he looked up, surprised to see Damien standing in the doorway to the change rooms. He smiled up at the other boy.

"Practice went well today, don't you think?" he asked.

Damien grinned. "Yeah, it did. We've got a good team."

"We do," Armand agreed. "It was a bit difficult, having to fight the other captains for the best players."

Damien nodded his understanding as he moved from the doorway to sit beside Armand on the bench. "Do you think this whole thing is really going to work?"

"Do you mean the new Quidditch teams, or all the changes in the school?" Armand asked, his brows furrowing as he considered Damien's query.

"All of it, I guess. Mostly I meant the Quidditch."

"I would never have taken the Quidditch idea to Wood if I didn't believe it would work. I told you before that I thought your plan was a stroke of genius," Armand replied matter-of-factly. He tried not to smile as Damien flushed under the praise. "As for the rest of it.... Well, the Board of Governors might be a bit hard to convince, but...yeah, I think it will all work out all right, eventually."

Damien was silent for a moment, seemingly fascinated with the light patterns playing across the stone floor of the changing room. "I didn't come to talk about Quidditch," he said quietly.

"I didn't think that you did."

"I came to apologise. I seem to be doing an awful lot of that lately," Damien said with a sigh.

"You've nothing to apologise for, Damien."

"I tried to kiss you, or have you forgotten?" Damien snarked.

"I didn't forget," Armand replied in a near whisper. "I've thought about it quite a lot in fact. Even though I know I did the right thing that night, sometimes...." He sighed. "Sometimes I wish I had let you kiss me."

Damien's head jerked up, surprise written in the wide eyes that met Armand's. "You...wish that?"

"Sometimes," Armand admitted. He dropped his gaze to the floor and sighed again. "Most of the time. And I know I shouldn't feel that way...."

"Because of Sera," Damien interjected, his voice soft and a little sad.

"Yes. But Merlin help me, I can't help it. I want to kiss you."

"Then kiss me," Damien said softly, shifting closer to the older boy. "Just this once."

Armand pulled the smaller boy into his arms, guiding the blond head to his shoulder as he had the night of Damien's confession. They sat there for a time, wrapped in a loose embrace as Armand's emotions warred inside him.

"Just this once," he whispered into Damien's hair.

Damien tilted his head back and closed his eyes, waiting. After a moment, he felt the soft, warm pressure of Armand's mouth against his own. Armand deepened the kiss almost immediately, and they began a slow, thorough exploration of one another's mouths.

A sharp gasp drew them out of the kiss, and Damien felt a strange sense of déjà vu - only this time he was one of the guilty parties rather than an observer. Any second, he knew, the hysterics would begin. He forced himself to look toward the door.

Ella Weasley stood staring back at him. "Sera's going to kill you both," she informed them coldly before turning and stalking away from the changing rooms.

*

As soon as the shock of Ella's unexpected interruption passed, the two boys hurried back to the castle. Neither boy knew what to say to the other, so the walk back was made in awkward silence. In the entrance hall, Armand told Damien that he was sure that Ella would go immediately to Sera with what she had seen and went to seek out the girls in hopes of controlling the damage. Damien slowly made his way to his father's room, collecting his thoughts as he went. He felt it was time for a long overdue apology.

Damien paused outside the door to his father's quarters, wondering if he should knock before entering. He decided not to and slipped inside. The room was quiet but not dark; there was no sign of Draco.

"Dad?" Damien called softly as he padded across the room towards the adjoining bath.

"We're here, Damien," Draco replied, his voice coming from behind the half-closed curtains surrounding his bed.

"Oh. Er. I didn't mean to...um...interrupt," Damien stammered, quickly backpedaling away from the bed. "I'll just...go."

Draco laughed and cast a spell to pull the curtain open a little wider, revealing himself and Harry - both fully dressed. Draco was sitting with his back against the headboard; Harry sat between Draco's legs, leaning back against his chest. "You weren't interrupting anything important," Draco assured his son.

"We were just looking through this," Harry added, holding up the latest "Quality Quidditch Supplies" owl-order catalog.

"It still hasn't been decided what to do about the uniforms for the new Quidditch teams. Most are in favour of just spelling the old ones to match the new team colours, but they're really rather out-of-style. Harry and I thought we'd do a little research," Draco explained. "We could use your input."

Damien frowned. "I didn't come to talk about Quidditch uniforms."

Harry sighed and sat upright. "Should I leave you two alone to talk?" he asked, directing the question at Damien.

"No. This involves you as well," Damien replied levelly. He took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts again. The Quidditch conversation had caused him to forget his carefully planned apology. "I... Do you think you can ever forgive me?" he blurted out.

"Already have," Harry said softly.

Behind him, Draco nodded his agreement. "Can you forgive us?"

Damien smiled shyly and nodded his head. "I...uh...kind of understand things better now, I think."

Draco arched an eyebrow, waiting for further explanation.

Damien sat down on the foot of the bed, his back against the corner post and his knees drawn up, his face mostly hidden in shadows. "I understand that you loving Harry doesn't mean you don't love me. But it's more than that. I understand that you can't control who you care for, and you can't just stop caring for them even if it's the right thing to do. I even understand about keeping secrets to keep from hurting people you love."

Harry scooted forward on the bed and laid his hand on Damien's arm. Draco moved to sit beside his son, wrapping an arm protectively around his shoulders.

"If you want to talk about...if you ever need to talk about anything, Harry and I are both here for you."

"I know," Damien replied quietly, covering his face with one hand. "There are some things I just don't think you'd want to know, though."

"No matter what it is, we're willing to listen, Damien," Harry assured him. "And nothing you can say is going to make either of us love you any less."

Damien's hand fell away from his face, and he looked at Harry with a perplexed expression on his face.

Harry smiled softly. He brushed Damien's hair back from his face. "Haven't you figured out yet that I love you, and Sera, and Adrian as much as I love your father?"

"Even after what I did?" Damien asked in a near whisper.

"It would take a hell of a lot more than lashing out because you're confused to make me stop caring, Damien."

"Though I would suggest coming and talking to us in the future rather than keeping everything to yourself," Draco admonished gently.

"You're trying to get me to tell you what's bothering me, aren't you?" Damien asked, giving his father a calculating glance.

"Partly," Draco admitted.

Damien sighed. "I did something I shouldn't have. I...er...I fancy someone I shouldn't. Someone who's...involved."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting someone you can't have," Draco assured him.

Damien shook his head. "That's not all. I...we kissed."

It was Draco's turn to sigh. He wasn't ready to start dealing with his children's relationship problems. He felt he was doing well to keep his own relationship running more-or-less smoothly.

"And Ella saw us. I think it...hurt her feelings."

"You can't live your life to make other people happy," Harry said. "If you hurt Ella's feelings...well, it's unfortunate, but her happiness isn't your responsibility."

"And while it isn't exactly admirable to kiss someone who's involved with another, it isn't so terrible, either," Draco added. "At least you understand that you shouldn't have done it."

"You don't understand," Damien said, his voice laced with anguish. He dropped his head down to rest against his knees.

"What don't we understand, Damien?" Harry asked gently.

Damien mumbled something against his knees, and Harry's eyes widened slightly in surprise. Draco's brows furrowed; he hadn't been able to understand his son's mumbled response.

"That does complicate things a bit, doesn't it?" Harry mused, reaching out to stroke Damien's hair.

"What does?" Draco wanted to know.

"It's Armand," Harry replied.

"What's Armand?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Armand is who Ella saw Damien kissing."

"But..." Draco paused, dumbstruck. He drew his son into his arms and guided the boy's head to his shoulder, too stunned to speak.

"It was only supposed to happen the once. I wanted him to...to be my first, you know? My...my first time kissing a...another boy. It wasn't going to happen again. I would never hurt Sera," Damien explained as tears filled his eyes and began to spill over onto his baby-soft cheeks.

"Sera will understand that, I think," Harry said. "She might be more inclined to forgive and forget if she hears it from you first."

"I think it's too late for that," Damien replied.

*

Armand found Sera in the library, just as he knew he would. He settled into the seat beside her, but she didn't look up at him. She seemed intent on the book that was open on the table before her, but he was certain that she was upset with him.

"Sera, I don't know what Ella told you, but I swear it wasn't what it looked like," he said, forgetting to pause for breath.

Sera looked up from her book then, with an odd expression on her face. "If it wasn't what it looked like, then what was it?" she asked calmly.

Armand found himself spilling the entire story - from finding Damien in the off-limits hallway, to agreeing to give him his first kiss, to Ella's interruption - in hushed tones, mindful of being in the library. He never met her eyes, staring instead at his own hand tracing the wood-grain of the table.

When he was done talking, he waited, but Sera remained silent. He gathered his courage and looked up at her, expecting to see tears or fury in her eyes. Instead, he saw concern and compassion.

"I'm glad it was you," she said softly. "Poor Damien."

"That's it?" he asked a little too loudly. Sera shushed him, and he continued. "I expected you to be angry with me."

"I can't say I'm thrilled about it. I'm...a little disappointed. But being angry with you isn't going to help anything."

Armand laughed softly. "I think the Sorting Hat made a mistake with you," he said affectionately. "You should have been a Ravenclaw."

"I'm not pretentious enough for Ravenclaw," she replied with a mischievous grin.

Armand smiled back at her. "So we're all right, then?"

"Hmm..." Sera put her hand to her chin and cocked her head to one side, pretending to think about it. "I don't know...." she teased. "Perhaps you should make it up to me."

"With pleasure," Armand replied. "So long as making it up to you doesn't involve studying."

Sera grinned, but the grin dissolved quickly. "Armand...I think you should know. Ella didn't tell me anything. I haven't seen her all day."

Armand's brows furrowed. "I'm glad I told you, though. I feel better about it. But...if Ella didn't come talk to you, then where is she?"

*

Ella, hurt by Damien's casual betrayal of her feelings, wandered down to the lake. She sat on the shore and watched the giant squid glide lazily just below the lake's surface. Her hand closed idly over a rather sizable rock, and for a moment she considered hurling it at the squid, wanting to strike out at someone or something. She forced the destructive urge aside, tossing the rock aside and curling her hands into tight fists. The feeling of her nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms grounded her somehow.

It wasn't as if Damien owed her anything. He wasn't her boyfriend or anything. Still, she had thought he rather liked her, and to find him kissing her cousin cut her to the core. He couldn't kiss just anyone, it had to be a boy - an almost ethereally beautiful boy - who also happened to be her favourite cousin. Or he had been her favourite. She wasn't so sure now.

When gentle hands pried one of her fists open, her head snapped up, wondering how anyone had gotten so close without her knowledge. Adrian ignored her surprise and carefully massaged the half-moon indentations in her palm.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"Don't really know," Adrian replied, looking up at her. "Just seemed like the thing to do." He stopped rubbing her hand, but didn't let go of it. "What's wrong, Ella?"

"Nothing," she mumbled, looking away from his intense scrutiny.

"You're a terrible liar," Adrian informed her. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. But if you do, I'll listen."

"It's that arsehole brother of yours," Ella spat. "I found him kissing...someone else."

Adrian sighed. "It figures."

"I just thought...I thought he really liked me. He's the first boy that ever did, you know. The only boy who ever has," she confided, tears pooling in her eyes.

"I'm sure that isn't true, Ella. Maybe the other boys just...I don't know. Maybe they're shy, or they didn't want to say anything because of Damien."

Something in Adrian's voice caused Ella to turn and look at him again - really look at him. There was something in his eyes, something she wasn't sure she recognized.

"Anyway," he continued, looking down at where their hands lay, still joined, on his thigh. "Dad says we're all too young for committed relationships. He says we shouldn't have steady boyfriends or girlfriends until we're older. That at our age, we shouldn't limit our options." He paused. "Dad's a bit weird, sometimes."

Ella laughed. "My dad told me almost the same thing. And who knows?" she said, tilting Adrian's face up so she could look him in the eyes. "Maybe he's right."