Losing Harry

Notes: Written 16 Nov. 2008; Edited for errors/improvement 18 July 2009. Written in British English. Thanks to NewsHound for beta-ing this chapter. Also thanks to Kathryn for all the extra second round of beta work!

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Albus Severus Potter watched the morning-post owls gloomily, as not a single one of them swooped down to his table in the Great Hall. Three sets of matching eyes nearby watched the post owls as well, but none of them held the same disappointment as that which was written in the depths of Al's green eyes.

"There's always tomorrow," Lysander said, giving a half shrug and digging into his sausages.

Al didn't want to know if his friends exchanged looks when he wasn't watching. He didn't want to know what they were thinking, or what they weren't saying. He knew their foursome had been different in the past few weeks. Scorpius hadn't been himself since the beginning of the school year, and now Al knew his own worry and depression was seeping into their quartet, darkening their once vibrant atmosphere.

The twins, aside from seeming a little out of sorts while sitting amongst the students of another house, also looked a bit lost at times, as if they didn't know how to act without Scorpius and Al's antics - cutting up, making trouble, and laughing like nothing else in the world mattered. Scorpius and Albus could still be cunning and shrewd - they were Slytherins, after all - but something told Albus that it wasn't quite the same as when his dad and Scorpius's father had gone to school together.

"Hey, Potty! How about taking a bet with us? We can't decide who's going to fall off their broom first this time, you or your boyfriend!"

Albus glared at Derrick Thomas, the arrogant young prat who had shouted across the Great Hall at them. The boy was one of James's best friends. Perhaps things weren't so different from the rivalry that existed thirty years ago, after all.

Neither Albus nor Scorpius was on the House Quidditch team, but since the flying basics hadn't taken long to learn, most students spent their time in Flying Class playing pick-up Quidditch instead. In his first year, Albus had fallen off his broom during lessons, and naturally the whole school had heard about it. Thomas liked to remind him of it any chance he could, and while James never mentioned it at school, it didn't stop him from laughing at his friend's joke - or taking the mickey at home.

Dad always made James apologise, if he caught his son teasing his siblings cruelly.

Dad was gone, though.

Albus set his cheek to his fist and pushed his eggs around with his fork. There was nothing he could do about it in the Great Hall, with all the professors watching, and if he acted as if he didn't care, the taunting usually stopped - at least until Al could get back at them.

He wasn't a pushover. He was a Slytherin. They didn't do such idiotic things as shouting across the Great Hall in front of all the authorities. No, they were sneaky, and they got their enemies where it really hurt.

"I heard Thomas is struggling in potions class and his father sent him a special remedial potions kit. I say we sabotage it, switch some of his ingredients and adjust a few recipes," Lorcan whispered conspiratorially across the breakfast table.

Al gave a nod of acknowledgement but went back to pushing his eggs around on his plate. The other three continued planning, but somehow it just didn't matter to Al any more, even though he normally would have taken amusement from his Ravenclaw friends' very Slytherin way of thinking. It didn't matter. He felt like the world was changing and they were sitting on the sidelines eating sausages and not doing a damn thing about it.

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"Why doesn't Mum write to us and tell us something?" Lily whined onto her brother's shoulder.

Al gave her a half hug before pulling away awkwardly. They were walking together near the Black Lake later in the evening. He didn't often associate with his siblings while at Hogwarts, but Lily had asked to see him.

"There's nothing to say, that's why," Al answered gently.

"But...but..."

"Lil, Mum doesn't know where Dad is. No one does. Don't you think the whole Wizarding world is looking for him right now?" Albus asked her. They paused again on their walk, and Al looked out across the dark lake, finding it hard to stare into his sister's face when he saw how worried she was. He had to be strong for his sister. He was a man, after all, and that's what men were supposed to do - especially with girls.

Al frowned.

"He's Harry bloody Potter! How could he be lost?" Lily cried.

"Maybe something happened," Al suggested quietly.

"No, don't say that!" she reprimanded, tugging on his jacket.

Albus obliged and kept his mouth shut.

"James won't even talk to me about it! If I try to bring it up, he just says, 'Not now, Lils,' and then he runs off with his friends!"

"Well, James is James," Al answered, sarcasm evident in his voice. He rolled his eyes and glared at the lake again.

"I wish you two would get along and forget your differences." Lily scowled.

"Don't talk to me about him," Al warned.

"Why is it that you two are always telling me what I can and can't talk to you about?!"

"Look, can we focus on one problem at a time? The more important one being that Dad's gone and no one's heard anything from him in weeks."

It was quiet by the lake, save for the wind blowing through the trees, shaking the remaining leaves from their branches. The night sky had fallen so darkness enveloped the brother and sister, but the stars refused to shine, their light hidden by the looming clouds. Al knew it was past time that they headed back to the castle. They were sure to be given detention if they were caught coming back after curfew. He couldn't bring himself to care.

"Do you think he doesn't love us any more?" Lily whispered to her brother.

Albus turned and looked his sister square in the face. He searched her eyes, letting their gazes lock.

"Don't even think it. He loves us more than he's ever loved anyone, or anything, else."

"Does he love us more than he loves Mum?" Lily asked in that same quiet tone.

Albus tilted his head to the side, thoughts slowly turning over in his head.

"Yes, I think so," Albus finally whispered.

Had they been just a few years younger, Al was sure that Lily would have taken his hand in that moment, as they had done when they were still children in primary school, before the world of Hogwarts, peers, being cool, and growing up had been thrust upon them.

"Al?" Lily asked.

"Yeah?"

"Is it true, what they all say, about Malfoy's father going missing, too?" she asked with a tone of hesitant curiosity.

"Yes," Al answered, shifting his foot in the leaves. He could feel himself subconsciously adopting a stiffness to his stance. It was habit any time his Gryffindor family members mentioned anything or anyone Slytherin.

"Are they looking for him, too?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Probably not."

"But why?" Lily snapped immediately, turning huge eyes upon her brother.

"Because Mr Malfoy isn't Harry bloody Potter. Because the world isn't fair. And the sooner we learn that lesson, the better."

Lily frowned and tucked her chin in closer to her chest, pulling her small arms around herself.

"Everything will be okay," Al tried to reassure her.

"Please, whatever happens... I know this whole stupid house dividing thing has made us all drift apart, but please, Al, don't leave me, okay?"

Lily's eyes were large as she gazed up at him, but this time they held not surprise, but a pleading look that left Al with no choice but to make the promise to her.

"I'm only on the other side of the Great Hall, promise," Al said. He wanted to kiss her forehead. He thought maybe he shouldn't, so he didn't.

Twenty minutes later, the brother and sister parted ways, one going up to a tower, the other down to a dungeon, but each to their respective home. Albus let the door to Slytherin's dungeon common room slide closed behind him. It was quiet inside. A few students were scattered across the room studying, and one pair sat on the floor playing Exploding Snap. Al spotted the empty sofa and took advantage of it. He didn't have any homework to finish or any pending responsibilities. He just wanted to crash, let the day wash over him, and process what was happening with his family.

"Where were you?!"

Al's head snapped up just in time to see Scorpius round the edge of the sofa before plopping down on the next cushion.

"I thought you would just be a minute, and then you were gone all evening!" Scorpius elaborated. "I finished my homework for every single one of my classes already!"

"Well, then," Al smirked, "I guess I should disappear more often, and you might actually get work done."

"Don't say that!" Scorpius argued, shoving Al on the arm.

"Oi! Potter!"

Al's attention again snapped around, this time to the front of the room, where Lorcan and Lysander had just come traipsing in from the dungeon corridor. Their Heads of Houses seemed well aware of the two Ravenclaws spending time in the Slytherin common room, but so long as peace was maintained and no rules, to their knowledge, were broken, the professors appeared to allow it.

"The Quibbler was just delivered in a special evening addition!" Lorcan said, the brothers drawing closer to the sofa. Lorcan held the magazine in his hand and forced Al and Scorpius to move apart so he could sit between them. Lysander perched on the armrest near Scorpius.

"Something important?" Al asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Nothing headliner," Lorcan replied.

"But nonetheless, important," Lysander continued.

Albus had often contemplated the brothers as proof that twins could communicate with their own special language. How they always knew what they other would say, Al didn't understand.

"Look, page twenty-two," Lorcan instructed them, flipping the pages and folding the magazine in half.

Scorpius was the quickest to find the small paragraph, and he read it aloud for the four of them.

"And now a tip for all our faithful readers in France: Keep your eyes peeled, because you never know who you might see roaming the streets. A recent subscriber confirmed seeing none other than the famous Harry Potter not long ago in a neighbourhood near her home. What the wizard was doing there, the Auror Department in the Ministry of Magic has yet to confirm. You heard it from us first! Keep a look out, and you just might get your very own Potter Autograph! See page forty-seven for Quibbler's own Potter Autographs."

"France? What's he doing in France?" Al asked, looking around Lorcan to Scorpius.

"Maybe he is on Auror duty, after all," Scorpius offered.

"You know, half the stuff The Quibbler reports isn't true, though," Lysander cautioned.

"But Dad said sometimes it is true. So how do we tell the two apart?"

Lorcan shrugged next to him. "Still, it's the first thing we've seen since we started looking that had anything to do with your dad."

"But what are we supposed to do? Go racing off to France and look for him? The report didn't even say what city he was supposedly spotted in." Albus frowned and crossed his arms.

"Well, why don't you clip the paragraph and send it to your mum? Maybe she can go looking for him, or maybe she has some connections," Lysander suggested from his seat next to Scorpius.

"No way, your aunt's in the Ministry, and she's really clever. That's what you told me your dad always says. Send her the article," Scorpius said.

"Yeah, Aunt Hermione would definitely have connections." Al nodded.

"Maybe she's already seen the article, though," Lorcan suggested, raising an uncertain eyebrow.

"Nah, I never see anyone reading The Quibbler, except for Dad sometimes. Mum hates The Quibbler, but my aunt doesn't. She just rolls her eyes sometimes, and she and Dad exchange some look like they know something that the rest of us don't," Al filled in.

"Well, maybe they do." Lorcan shrugged.

Al decided he would send the clipping to Aunt Hermione, and the boys relaxed a little, feeling like at least they had found a small morsel of information. It gave them hope for something more. Lorcan managed to get Scorpius to agree to a game of wizard chess, while Lysander pulled out an essay he still had to finish for Transfiguration. Albus slumped against the back of the sofa, flipping through the rest of The Quibbler and watching his friends, though not really seeing them.

"Hi, Al."

Al's gaze snapped away from staring at the chessboard and slowly he looked up to the voice that had called to him.

"How are you doing?"

It was Adele who had spoken to him - a girl from his year in Hogwarts who had always been kind to him. She stood near the edge of the sofa, gazing at him expectantly.

"I'm all right. Why?" Albus asked, watching her.

"Just...you know... A lot of the school has heard about your dad, and...I just hope you're okay. My parents divorced when I was a baby. My dad was a wizard and my mum a Muggle, and she had to raise me alone... Just, I know what it's like to miss your father. Even though our experiences are very different."

Her voice was soft, and she reached up to tuck some strands of dark brown hair behind her ear. She looked at him through thick dark eyelashes, the flames of the fire behind her playing a trick with the light.

"Er, thanks."

Al tried to smile politely to her, but then he felt something thwack against his forehead, and he grimaced and rubbed the pained spot, looking around immediately for the offender.

"Sorry, my king got overzealous and chucked Lorcan's pawn at you!" Scorpius laughed, his gaze locked on Albus.

Al rolled his eyes and dug around in the cushion to retrieve the lost figure.

"Anyway, I hope you're okay. I'll see you in potions tomorrow," Adele said quietly, smiling at Al again before moving away toward the end of the common room, to the corridors that led to the dormitories.

"You need to get your chessmen under control," Al reprimanded, standing up and moving toward his friends.

Scorpius had the decency to look ashamed of his chessman. Al sat down next to Scorpius and handed the pawn over. Warm fingers danced along Al's palm as the pawn was removed, and he felt his hand tickle even after the figure was gone.

"Next time, I'll throw the pawn right back at your head," Al warned.

Scorpius laughed and slung an arm around Al, tugging him over until he was trapped in a headlock. The chess game had a brief intermission while Al and Scorpius wrestled on the floor, Al trying to escape the headlock and Scorpius trying to trap him.

Within the hour, Lysander finished his essay, Scorpius defeated Lorcan in their chess game, and Albus scribbled a note to his Aunt Hermione, deciding to post it in the morning before breakfast. The four boys finally headed for bed, parting ways as the twins headed for the door to the common room, anxious to make it back to Ravenclaw territory before curfew and avoid any unnecessary detentions.

"I bet your aunt will get the article, and then she'll suddenly remember something, and she'll know exactly where to find your dad," Scorpius said reassuringly to Al, who hadn't made it farther than to sit deep in thought on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah," Al replied, unthinking.

He felt Scorpius sit on the bed next to him. His leg and arm were warm where they met Al's. He liked the warmth and the connection, something that kept him from feeling isolated and alone.

"And your dad?" Al asked, slowly tearing his unseeing gaze from the wall and looking upon his friend.

Scorpius shrugged.

"Maybe if we can find your dad, then your dad can find my dad. He can do anything, after all, right?"

Scorpius smiled, obviously meaning to encourage Albus. The dark haired boy returned the smile and reached up to run a hand through his hair, yawning as he realised how tired he was.

"Try not to worry so much. We can only take each day at a time," Scorpius added, patting Al's back near his shoulder blades.

One day at a time, Al repeated in his head.

One day at a time.