HP fic: Post-DH
Title: Post-DH
Scene Title: Letter to Home
Progress: WIP
"Whatcha up to, Al?"
Albus spun around, quickly putting the letter behind his back as he faced his older brother. James blinked in surprise before a devilish sort of grin settled onto his features, a wicked grin that Albus sadly knew meant that he wouldn't win this round. "It's nothing!" he lied anyway, "M-Mum wanted me to send her mail every once in a while so--"
The way James was slowly advancing toward Albus made him think of some sort of cat about to pounce on a mouse. "Oh, really?" said his brother with a smirk in his voice. "Well, do let me see! I'll have to add my own letter to it--would make sending it off quicker, wouldn't it?"
Albus sweated, knowing that James could smell a lie better than he could because the older boy was so good at inventing them. "B-b-but--!" he tried to object only to be forced to dive to the side as James lunged at him. "Cut it out! It's my letter!"
"Oh, come off," scoffed James, hands going to his hips. "That's obviously not a letter to Mum because you wouldn't have snuck out in the middle of the night if it was just that." The older boy lifted a hand into the air and waved it about as he continued, "Anyway, I don't see why I can't read just a bit of it--if it's nothing to be ashamed of, then what're you doing hiding it behind your back?"
Flustered, the younger boy tried to think of an answer to that. As he was thinking, however, James quickly whipped out his wand and triumphantly cried, "Accio letter!"
"Ah!" shouted Albus as the letter flew out of his hands and into his brother's. Immediately, the smaller boy began to yell, "Give it back, James! It's not yours! It's my letter! Give it back!"
His brother promptly ignored him and gleefully opened the parchment without any qualms.
Albus had just been about to go for his wand when he noticed the frown forming on James' brow and couldn't help but to ask, "What're you getting so serious about?" when the older boy looked up at him, brown eyes not shining with the usual mischief and amusement the younger boy was so used to. Without warning, James thrust the letter back into Albus' hands, leaving him gaping and stammering, "W-what--?"
"Burn it," said James, tucking his wand back into his robes and turning to leave the owlry.
Bewildered and befuddled, Albus shouted at his brother, "Why should I? What's wrong with--"
James looked over his shoulder and actually frowned at his younger brother, acting not at all like his usual self. "Don't send that kind of letter to him," he said without any sort of laughter in his voice.
Stricken and more than a bit confused, Albus clutched the parchment paper in his fists and demanded, "Why can't I? Why shouldn't I? I don't get what's so bad about asking about all of that! I just want to know--"
"I know you just want to know, Al," said James with a bit of twist to his lips that showed that he wasn't sure as to whether or not he should give a reassuring smile or not, "but you know you would have known more about all of this if anyone wanted to talk about it. It hurts them to think about it all, you know? Yeah, it's been twenty years, but it still hurts. And it probably hurts Dad most, really, so asking him about it like that--"
"Who else am I supposed to ask?" asked Albus plaintively. "And how come you seem so sure how Dad would feel about me asking? He's always been willing to answer my questions before--"
"'Cause I asked the same ones last year."
Albus stared at his older brother, who looked to the ground and appeared more than a bit ashamed for having admitted to it. James was rarely ever really one to feel bad for the pranks and jokes he'd pull on others. So that he would actually feel this bad about just asking their father some questions...
"Yeah, Dad doesn't mind answering the questions so much," continued James, his voice lightening a bit in an attempt to get things back to their normal order, "but I could tell he really hated having to answer them. Especially about all the Boy Who Lived business. Yeah, he shrugged most of it off and even laughed some, but it really hurt him to think about it, you know?"
Albus hesitated for a moment before asking, "Well, if he seemed okay with answering, how did you know it really hurt to talk about it?"
His brother looked up and into his green eyes, the eyes he'd inherited from his father who'd, in turn, had inherited from his mother. There was a long stretch of silence as the two brothers just looked at each other. Then James shrugged and waved a hand in the air, seeming back to his usual self as he turned and walked off.
Albus stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before feeling his hackles rising as he slowly realized that he hadn't been given an answer. He ran after his brother, shouting, "Oi! You didn't answer my question! Oi, James! James, how could you tell? James!"
Scene Title: Letter to Home
Progress: WIP
"Whatcha up to, Al?"
Albus spun around, quickly putting the letter behind his back as he faced his older brother. James blinked in surprise before a devilish sort of grin settled onto his features, a wicked grin that Albus sadly knew meant that he wouldn't win this round. "It's nothing!" he lied anyway, "M-Mum wanted me to send her mail every once in a while so--"
The way James was slowly advancing toward Albus made him think of some sort of cat about to pounce on a mouse. "Oh, really?" said his brother with a smirk in his voice. "Well, do let me see! I'll have to add my own letter to it--would make sending it off quicker, wouldn't it?"
Albus sweated, knowing that James could smell a lie better than he could because the older boy was so good at inventing them. "B-b-but--!" he tried to object only to be forced to dive to the side as James lunged at him. "Cut it out! It's my letter!"
"Oh, come off," scoffed James, hands going to his hips. "That's obviously not a letter to Mum because you wouldn't have snuck out in the middle of the night if it was just that." The older boy lifted a hand into the air and waved it about as he continued, "Anyway, I don't see why I can't read just a bit of it--if it's nothing to be ashamed of, then what're you doing hiding it behind your back?"
Flustered, the younger boy tried to think of an answer to that. As he was thinking, however, James quickly whipped out his wand and triumphantly cried, "Accio letter!"
"Ah!" shouted Albus as the letter flew out of his hands and into his brother's. Immediately, the smaller boy began to yell, "Give it back, James! It's not yours! It's my letter! Give it back!"
His brother promptly ignored him and gleefully opened the parchment without any qualms.
Albus had just been about to go for his wand when he noticed the frown forming on James' brow and couldn't help but to ask, "What're you getting so serious about?" when the older boy looked up at him, brown eyes not shining with the usual mischief and amusement the younger boy was so used to. Without warning, James thrust the letter back into Albus' hands, leaving him gaping and stammering, "W-what--?"
"Burn it," said James, tucking his wand back into his robes and turning to leave the owlry.
Bewildered and befuddled, Albus shouted at his brother, "Why should I? What's wrong with--"
James looked over his shoulder and actually frowned at his younger brother, acting not at all like his usual self. "Don't send that kind of letter to him," he said without any sort of laughter in his voice.
Stricken and more than a bit confused, Albus clutched the parchment paper in his fists and demanded, "Why can't I? Why shouldn't I? I don't get what's so bad about asking about all of that! I just want to know--"
"I know you just want to know, Al," said James with a bit of twist to his lips that showed that he wasn't sure as to whether or not he should give a reassuring smile or not, "but you know you would have known more about all of this if anyone wanted to talk about it. It hurts them to think about it all, you know? Yeah, it's been twenty years, but it still hurts. And it probably hurts Dad most, really, so asking him about it like that--"
"Who else am I supposed to ask?" asked Albus plaintively. "And how come you seem so sure how Dad would feel about me asking? He's always been willing to answer my questions before--"
"'Cause I asked the same ones last year."
Albus stared at his older brother, who looked to the ground and appeared more than a bit ashamed for having admitted to it. James was rarely ever really one to feel bad for the pranks and jokes he'd pull on others. So that he would actually feel this bad about just asking their father some questions...
"Yeah, Dad doesn't mind answering the questions so much," continued James, his voice lightening a bit in an attempt to get things back to their normal order, "but I could tell he really hated having to answer them. Especially about all the Boy Who Lived business. Yeah, he shrugged most of it off and even laughed some, but it really hurt him to think about it, you know?"
Albus hesitated for a moment before asking, "Well, if he seemed okay with answering, how did you know it really hurt to talk about it?"
His brother looked up and into his green eyes, the eyes he'd inherited from his father who'd, in turn, had inherited from his mother. There was a long stretch of silence as the two brothers just looked at each other. Then James shrugged and waved a hand in the air, seeming back to his usual self as he turned and walked off.
Albus stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before feeling his hackles rising as he slowly realized that he hadn't been given an answer. He ran after his brother, shouting, "Oi! You didn't answer my question! Oi, James! James, how could you tell? James!"