Leave Out All the Rest

Chapter 37: Everything 

POV: Albus

"Oi! Oi!"

At my ignored protests that started several halls away, I was shoved into the Headmistress' office with more force than was necessary. I stumbled down the short steps, almost crashing into one of the chairs in front of the regal desk. 

Alice Longbottom scoffed. "Woman up, Albie. I didn't even grab you that hard."

I turned to her, glaring. "Don't call me Albie!"

She smirked, bringing her hand up to her face, inspecting her nails lazily. "I did warn you karma was a bitch, didn't I?"

"Aha!" I pointed an accusatory finger at her. "I knew you had no business being in that classroom. You were just waiting around, biding your time before you could have an excuse to drag me here. I'll accuse you of slander of character, Ali. I swear."

"First, don't call me Ali," she said, raising a finger of her own. Then, as she raised another, she added, "Secondly,  I have class with you, you dimwit. It's not my fault you've never noticed because you've been so busy all these years checking out a certain Gryffindor girl. Third of all, you're right; this is my revenge."

"How was I supposed to know you were snogging Lysander Scamander in the abandoned Divination classroom?" I shouted. "Neville said he hadn't seen you and asked to borrow the map. He was worried—and threatened to take it from us unless we let him use it! If your father doesn't trust you, that's not my problem."

"He's only paranoid because Dominique went and got knocked-up. Had her teenage pregnancy been revealed outside of Hogwarts, then he wouldn't care too much about a secret snog or two."

I grimaced. "Please don't tell me you're shagging Scamander."

The Hufflepuff prefect rolled blue eyes at me. "Is that seriously what you got from all of this?" Before I could answer, she let out a giant, satisfactory sigh. "Anyway, be a good boy, will you, and wait for the Headmistress here. She'll want to hear all about you punching that Slytherin git."

"Alice," I groaned as she started walking away, "You can't leave me here!"

"McGonagall's already been notified," she said, tapping her prefect badge as if that bound her by honor to tell the Headmistress everything. "Off the record, though, nice punch, Albie. Broke the tosser's nose beautifully."

"Don't call me—ah, bloody hell," I huffed as she walked back the way she had dragged me in from, the echo of her snicker all she left behind. I turned back to the chair I almost broke my own nose on, placing my hands on the headrest. A sound of defeat escaped my mouth. 

Mum was going to kill me. 

In my five years at Hogwarts, I have never entered the Headmistress' office. I was not the type of student to misbehave (alike my dearest brother), nor was I the type of student who needed one-on-one praise (alike my dearest cousin Rose). I obeyed all rules as were decreed by the school, and I was an average student. I was good at being under the radar.

But now I had to go and break some bloke's nose. 

"Mum doesn't forgive chivalry," I mumbled to myself. "She's going to kill me via Howler. My first Howler, too. Ever. But she won't care about that. Even though James has ten now, in just this year, but sure, let's just punish Albie for—"

"I thought you did not like to be called Albie?" My thoughts were interrupted by an unusual voice. I turned behind me, but no one was there. "Not surprising, though. Indecisive, just like your father."

"My father is not indecisive," I defended, turning around again, looking at every corner of the Head Office for anyone lingering around. "I've gone mad," I then murmured to myself. "What the hell did Zabini put in today's pumpkin juice?"

"Not mad," said the voice. "Stupid."

"I'm not—"

"Up here, boy," it interrupted me before I got a chance to defend myself. 

I spun to the sound of the voice, looking up. I was expecting a spider on the wall, the type Dad said Hagrid used to keep as pets, but there was no vile, large insect. Instead, there was a man inside a portrait. A man with pale skin, dark, ebony hair, with matching scowling eyes, and a hooked nose he was staring down at me from. 

"Talking portrait," I wheezed.

"My assumption was correct, then. Stupid."

"I'm not—" I paused, glaring but still shaking my head in disbelief. "I just meant, you're Severus Snape. The actual Severus Snape."

Snape rose a sharp, dark brow at me. "And you're a Potter."

There was a sort of distaste in his tone, but then his eyes narrowed at mine as I took a step closer. I knew I should have been uneasy about him staring me down, but I was more fascinated than anything. "Merlin," I continued, "I always knew you were here, but I didn't ever think to come up and see for myself. James mentioned portraits, but I was too busy dealing with school and girls...Wow. You're Snape."

"Ah, dear Severus, it seems you have found yourself a friend." Then there was another voice coming from beside Snape. There was another portrait there, one that had previously been empty. Now there was an old wizard too famous not to know his name. "I told you one day it would happen."

Snape turned his scowl at the bearded, white-haired man to his right. "I'm still trying to get rid of you, Dumbledore."

"Bit grouchy," the great Albus Dumbledore said to me with a wink. "But he's good company."

I took a step back, gawking at the two. 

All the stories I had heard, all the pictures I had seen in textbooks and from old clippings in Gran's attic did not live up to actually being face to (painted) face with Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore. They had been characters in tales of war that were too gruesome and too fantastic to be real to children born decades after the battle of good versus evil. Now I was staring them in the face, the two men that had helped my father in his youth.

 "You must be Albie," Dumbledore said with a kind smile during my long moment of silence. "James has mentioned you a few times. You're not as small as he made you seem."

"Apparently he is not too keen on that name," Snape told him rather dully. 

"Ah," Dumbledore mused, pulling his half-moon spectacles down a few centimeters on his nose. "What should we call you, then, dear boy?"

"Albus," I said, pointing two thumbs at myself, "Albus Severus."

A wider smile took a hold of Dumbledore's face while Snape seemed stunned. "See," the older wizard said, "I told you Harry wasn't lying."

Before I could ask what that meant, the doors to the Head Office opened to let Minerva McGonagall in.

I scrambled back to the chair, sitting on it with my hands crossed over my lap.

"Mister Potter," she called in her authoritative, no-nonsense tone, "I am horrified by your behavior. Violence is never the solution to anything."

I grimaced when she now stood behind her desk, those sharp, angry eyes finding my face. "I agree, Headmistress, but I wasn't the one who started it."

"Just because you think you finished the dispute, Mister Potter, it does not make you innocent, either. The fact is you that you attacked another student."

"I wouldn't say attacked..." I muttered. Mostly because one quick punch brought the git down instantly. 

"You physically assaulted a fellow Slytherin," McGonagall's voice grew more shrill. "Explain yourself."

My first thought was to lie to the Headmistress, but there really was no point in attempting to. I had heard from James and my other cousins about how she could smell a lie from a mile away, and I was not as dimwitted as them to still spin her a colorful story about how I tripped and accidentally decked the other bloke (a story well-used by Louis throughout his years here). 

"He pushed Nia Harper," I finally said. "She hasn't gotten back all her strength since the attack on the platform and he took advantage. I'm sorry, Professor, but if you're going to hurt someone not capable of defending themselves, then you're going to get a few bones broken. That's just how it is."

As I crossed my arms over my chest, her glare did not lessen, but the rigidity in her shoulders did. "I will be writing to your parents," she said the dreaded words I had not been wanting to hear. "Thirty points will be taken from Slytherin and you will have to serve two nights of detention with—"

"I do not mean to intervene, Headmistress," said Snape from his portrait, "but with a mother like Ginny Weasley, I would say that is punishment enough for the boy. She will be harsher to him than two nights cleaning silverware with Filch."

The Headmistress gave Snape a warning stare. As much I wanted to turn around and grin up at the man for speaking up, I knew he should not have advice McGonagall on how to do her job. If he had not been dead already, he would be by now. 

Then, shockingly to me, McGonagall said, "You are dismissed, Mister Potter. But those thirty points will be deducted. Now, off you go."

A giant breath of relief escaped my mouth. I easily turned to the portrait now with my grin of gratitude (Dumbledore was pretending to be asleep in his own portrait). "I'll come back and visit before the year is over," I said to Snape.

With a blank expression, the previous Potions Master and Headmaster of Hogwarts said, "Do not make it a habit, Al."

Laughing at that, I quickly launched myself from the chair and raced out of the Head Office before McGonagall changed her mind. 

While I was upset Alice Longbottom had the audacity to snitch on me, I did not regret doing what I did. I would have broken more than that bloke's stupid nose, but the Hufflepuff prefect in the room was a lot quicker with Shield Charms than I was at breaking some teeth. Sure, I made matters worse by doing so, but Nia could not be more mad at me than she already was.

As I thought of her furious blue eyes when Alice grabbed me by the neck of my robes to separate me from our classmate, I bumped into the last person I wanted to see. 

"Evanna," I breathed. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

My girlfriend blinked at me a few times, like she was trying to convince herself skipping her lesson was not entirely a mistake. When she seemed settled, she said, "You punched Bolton."

"It was hardly a punch," I told her, clearing my throat. "I barely touched him. Really, I think he hurt himself more on the way down than from my fist."

Even though there was a teasing smile on the corner of my mouth, Evanna did not find any humor in my statement. "Harper can fight her own battles, you know that, right? She doesn't need you to defend her."

"Yeah, I know," I said instantly, a flick of anger racing up my spine. "On any other day she could, but she's hurt, Evanna. Bolton took advantage of that. You can't expect me to—"

"I can't expect you to stop loving her," she interrupted me, her voice quiet, but it still echoed throughout the corridor. The previous surge of annoyance dwindled as soon as it had been created. I felt a sputter of counter-arguments start to form at the tip of my tongue, but she continued with, "You've loved her for years now. We used to gossip about you lot, you know? About who would end up with who, and we all used to bet our galleons on you and Harper. I put several on you and her our Third Year. You always looked at her like she was everything, but nothing ever happened. I found you charming enough to want to get to know you, to want to be with you, even though my friends advised against it. I should've listened."

I tried to swallow the excuses down, but they still came out. "Evanna, I swear I have never intended to hurt you. I really do like you—"

"As a friend," she said with a humorless laugh. "You were a good boyfriend, Al, but your eyes always wandered over to her. I saw something when you fought Bolton for her today. And that was absolute devotion. It doesn't matter if she hates your guts right now, because she'll always be your everything. And I can't settle for being just your something."

I paused. How could I refute that? Nia was the first and only person I saw in a crowded room. 

"I hate...hated her for that," Evanna said, "but it really was never her fault. She did not come in and steal you away. I stole you from her.  And if I'm being honest, I quite like her. So loathing her was far more exhausting than it needed to be. And all for some bloke? Not worth it."

I knitted my brows. "I'm not all that bad."

This time it was she that gave out a laugh. "No, you're not, but there are plenty of emotionally-available fish out there."

I wanted to roll my eyes at her, but I did not think it would be a smart choice. Instead, I took in a deep breath. "This is it, then?"

"Yeah," she reached over, giving my shoulder a shove. "And I'll be telling everyone I broke up with you."

"Seems like it was a mutual choice, really."

"It's only fair," she then said. "You'll be running into Harper's arms in no time."

"Doubtful. She hates me."

"She does, but she loves you a lot more. 'Sides," she took an inhale of her own, her eyes watering, but she did her best to smile at me, "I saw her coming in this direction, too. I just threw a few obstacles her way so I could ditch you first. So, really, I'll be saying you begged on your knees for me to stay."

I instantly turned to both ends of the corridor looking for Nia. There was a faint sound of footsteps on the right end. 

"Good luck, Al."

"Evanna," I sputtered, reaching to grab her wrist before she moved to the left end of the corridor. "I'm sorry. You know that, right? I never wanted to waste your time or to hurt you. You've been amazing to me. And you deserve someone better."

Her smile was sad, but she tried her hardest to make it a smirk. "Of course I do."

She tugged on her arm and my fingers let her wrist go. She gave me a small wave before quickening her steps just as a familiar blonde entered the hall.

"I see Nott already came to yell at you," Nia said, her blue eyes narrowing at me as she continued to approach. "Did she tell you you're an idiot? Because you are. A massive one. Why the hell would you punch that Bolton twat, Potter? On the last month of term, no less!"

I rolled my eyes at her. "A thank you would suffice, you know?"

"Thank you for what—?"

"And if you must know, Evanna came here to break up with me," I cut across her outrage. My words were effective to render her speechless. The anger in her gaze froze, confusion slowly starting to be blinked in. The red tint of her cheeks paled into a pink shade.

She cleared her throat, forcing herself to stand taller even though I knew the action hurt her. Her knee had not healed as quickly as Madam Pomfrey had hoped. Nor had sections of her spine. But as it was in Nia's behavior, she got out of the hospital bed and went to class, even if every step reminded her of having a wall knocked down on her. 

"I mean, I know you're stupid for fighting Bolton, but that's no excuse to break up with you."

"I don't think the Bolton thing was what made her break up with me," I said. "A small factor, yeah, I suppose, but I think it's me loving you."

Nia gritted her teeth, like that caused her more pain than her injuries. "Shut up with that, will you?"

"It's the truth."

"No," she countered, "It's something you said when you were angry."

"I was angry that Lorcan Scamander was acting like your smitten puppy because I love you."

"He was not," she hissed, defending him. 

"You're dating him. And that's fine. Whatever. I couldn't expect you to be single forever. I did get a girlfriend, too. I'm just...I'm tired of hiding it. Five years was long enough."

She scoffed. "I've told you before, Potter, just because a girl and a bloke are always together that doesn't mean they're a thing. Lor is my friend. Yeah, he has feelings for me, but he knows I don't return them. I've been honest with him from the start. That day at the Burrow...he held my hand because I almost ran back into the Floo when I saw Nott there."

I took a step closer to her. The dim light of the corridor still lit up her eyes like a summer sky. "So you're admitting it, then? You love me."

"That's not what I'm—"

"Nia," I placed my hands on her shoulders, gently squeezing once before pulling her closer to me. "Five years of bullshit. I'm telling you I love you. And I know you love me. If you don't want to cross that line with me, that's fine. It'll hurt like hell, but I meant what I said before. Being strictly your friend is a lot better than not having you in my life. It's been fucking horrible these past few months, you know? Every time something happened, every time I needed you, you weren't there. And I wasn't there for you, either. I can't do that anymore. I don't want you to keep hating me, nor do I want to keep running the other way from you. We have to make a choice of what's going to happen—"

"Oh, shut up, Potter," Nia huffed at me, throwing her arms around my neck.

Her lips were on mine before I could process it. 

My heart came alive like it did the first time we kissed. It felt like coming home after a long time of being away. I was rubbish at this, but she was, too. And if we were going to fall down this hole, there was no one else in the entire world I rather be free-falling through the unknown with than Nia.