Hello! New story, yep. Super inspired by a lovely person on Tumblr who goes by the name ask-magicomega, who's blog I highly suggest you check out because it is fabulous and amazing and has such a wonderful story.
For those who followed A Flower's Resilience, no this is not a continuation of that story, nor is it in the same universe. Sorry, y'all.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this place. Himaruya and JK Rowling own each respectively. In addition, this particularly Alfred, Matthew, Francis, Arthur, Peter, and others are not of my design but ask-magicomega's and this particular Omegaverse/Pottertalia world is not mine either. Full credit goes to ask-magicomega, I just came up with plot idea. I do not profit from this work whatsoever.
Memo to those who come to read this from ask-magicomega's tumblr
I did write this based off of her characters and setting and all of those other wonderful things that she came up with, but I would like to specify that I will not exactly follow her plot. I will branch off at different points from the sequence of things. This plot is going to be different from hers, and I want to make you all aware of that before we get to those parts of my story.
I hope y'all enjoy! Any questions should be in a review and any story requests, if you would please place those in my inbox, I would greatly appreciate it.
Expelliarmus
"It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."
―J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Alfred could remember seeing Matthew for the first time after their parent's split. He could remember how solid Mattie felt after years of his brother being nothing but a figment of his imagination. He could remember how Mattie smelled, a mixture of their mother's scent and something akin to maple syrup. He could remember accidentally stepping on Kumajirou's arm, but not really feeling guilty about it. He could remember wanting to cry. He could remember wanting to tell his brother everything.
He could remember realizing that that was not an option.
So he lied.
αβΩ
Alfred tossed his trolley onto the luggage cart before bending to pick up the fishbowl containing his albino goldfish and tucking it under his arm. Tony had moved himself beneath the little plastic castle that Alfred had taken great care in selecting. The little fish was no doubt petrified.
Alfred could relate.
Clearing his throat, he waited for Matthew to mimic his actions before nervously boarding the train, his brother's anxious breathing imitating his own.
They found an empty compartment relatively quickly and sank back into the seats. Alfred settled the fishbowl on his legs and slid his wand from his pocket, his fingers twiddling it. He hated being uncertain like this. Matthew shifted on the seat across from him, taking out his own wand and tracing random circles in the air with its tip, a line of sparkles following the movements.
Alfred sighed loudly and grinned over at his sibling. Matthew smiled back. "Hogwarts, eh?" asked his brother, a vibration of terror making his voice waver. Alfred laughed.
"It's gonna be so cool," he replied, his eyes cutting quickly to the window and watching his mother and her mate stand there, waiting for the train to leave.
He wanted to get this entire ordeal over with. Honestly, it was a pain in the ass to deal with such a drastic change of location so late in his school career.
He absolutely abhorred change. What the hell kind of good things had change done for him?
The train's whistle trilled sharply through the air before the gentle chug of engines tugged them forward, forcing Alfred to angle the fishbowl so that no water slopped over the edge.
Matthew's face was glued to the window as he frantically waved goodbye to his mothers. Alfred waved halfheartedly, one hand curving, white-knuckled, along the rim of the bowl.
When both of the adults were out of sight, Alfred leaned back against the squashy seat back and sighed, closing his eyes. He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep last night. To be quite frank, he didn't get a lot of sleep any night, but last night was particularly bad.
Nightmares, he had decided, could go to hell.
The sound of the door to the compartment sliding open snapped him out of his drowsiness, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the girl in the doorway. A discrete sniffing told him that she was an Alpha. She had huge brown hair and half-lidded eyes and looked as if she would fall asleep on her feet. When her eyes caught on Alfred and Matthew, there was a flicker of disappointment.
"This is normally my compartment," she said mournfully before taking a seat next to Matthew. Mattie was approachable like that; Alfred didn't know quite what it was. He attracted his fair share of people too, but Mattie didn't even have to try.
"Well, find a new compartment then!" he snapped, glaring petulantly in response to the Alpha's disinterested gaze. Fucking Alphas, thinking that they could get whatever they wanted.
"I don't mind if you two are in here," Alfred blinked, temporarily thrown. "I was just saying that this is normally my compartment." As if those were too many words for her to manage in one day, she sighed for the umpteenth and moved her body so that it was propped against the wall, her feet swinging up to rest on the seat. Mattie obligingly slid over to give her more space.
If she had sat next to Alfred, he sure as hell wouldn't have been willing to give her space on his seat.
The Alpha was asleep before Alfred could be any more waspish, and Matthew turned disapproving eyes on him. "You didn't have to be like that. You know what the conditions are for us to go to this school. Be nicer," was his brother's soft scolding, Kumajirou sitting on his lap in much the same way that Tony was sitting on Al's.
Alfred hated how good his brother was at making him feel guilty. That didn't mean that he was going to apologize, but he had a feeling that Mattie saw his embarrassment anyway. Nothing more was said, the two siblings falling into a silence with only the soft snores of the strange Greek Alpha stroking the air.
She'd had an accent when she spoke, something that Alfred was quick to pick up on. Just like Mattie and their mother had an accent. Just like their stepmother, Tanya.
Technically, Alfred now had an accent. They weren't in America anymore, they weren't going to Salem; they were going to the prestigious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
The rhythmic rocking of the train lulled Alfred to sleep. When he woke, the sun was cloaking the trees with its warm evening glow, the clouds blushing with pinks and oranges after all the attention they'd been shown that day. The sky was changing her outfit again, switching from the cold blues to the warm yellow, orange, red and pink shades of dusk.
Matthew's hands were resting on his shoulders and Alfred forced his heart to calm down. It was just Mattie, it was just Mattie.
"What?" he croaked out, slightly grouchy. Matthew held Tony out, his pale fingers wrapping around the circumference of the bowl. Al sat up and took Tony's home into his hands, settling the fishbowl lightly on his lap before peering up at his brother. His glasses were skewed, as he'd fallen asleep with them still on his face, and he could feel the tentative pain of their earpieces being pressed into his skin for much too long. He removed the glasses and began to work on cleaning the lenses, waiting for Matthew to explain why he'd woken him up.
"We're almost there. We should go and change into our robes," was his brother's hushed suggestion. Alfred glanced up and over at the Alpha, who still happened to be asleep. He scoffed. If that silly Greek was still asleep, than talking loudly was not going to rouse her.
"Where are the changing rooms?" he asked, pointedly speaking loudly. He ignored his brother's look of reprimand.
"I don't know," hissed Matthew, as if by keeping his voice low he was going to force Alfred to do the same. "I just thought that we could ask somebody in the hallway."
Alfred took a moment to close his eyes and breathe before putting his fish aside and standing up. His robes, thankfully, were with him and so he wasn't going to have to go and fetch them from the luggage cart.
"Did the trolley come by? I've heard about the candy trolley on this train. Did you get anything, Mattie? I hope you got us some Chocolate Frogs, or else I'm never going to stop teasing you about that time in fifth grade-"
"I did!" interrupted Matthew, holding his hands up in surrender. Alfred sent his brother a wicked smile, to which he got an eye roll in response.
Once both were grouped, they headed out, Matthew carefully sliding the compartment door shut behind them.
They began their long walk down the aisle, muffled voices bleeding into the hallway from different compartments on each side. The first person they chanced upon, they asked.
The nosy French Alpha beamed and gestured with an overly dramatic flourish. Apparently they were going the wrong way. Alfred gave a terse thank you, grabbed Matthew's upper arm, and made to march away with his sibling but was stopped by the semi-helpful student.
"Mon ami, you have very pretty eyes," was the dude's compliment before he released Mattie, and Alfred lugged his sibling down the hall.
"That stupid Alpha, thinking he's so smooth and cool and just so damn attractive." Grumbled Alfred under his breath, not really aware of the kind of silence his brother was projecting.
"Al, stop," Matthew's voice interrupted him, and Alfred paused, looking at his brother with wide eyes. "It was just a compliment. He didn't mean any harm by it."
Alfred was sputtering. Some small part in the back of his mind knew that he was overreacting, but he knew that those words weren't just a compliment. That damn French Alpha wanted more than to just see Mattie blush.
But Alfred didn't want to get in a fight with Matthew so early in the year, so he remained silent. Luckily, Mattie didn't pursue the issue and they both reached the changing rooms in silence.
Alfred emerged first, the robes folding in a black curtain around him. He took a moment to look at himself in the mirror, just staring at his face and hair and eyes, big as they were behind his glasses. His hands moved absently up to pinch at his cheeks and rub at his nose, adjusting the glasses and messing with the robe.
He hated how self-conscious he was, but there was no helping that. What is once taught cannot be un-taught, so they say.
The sound of Mattie sliding the other changing room door open had Alfred turning around and grinning.
"We're going to Hogwarts!" he chirped, flashing forward and shaking Matthew by his shoulders.
After the earthquake, Mattie adjusted his glasses and reciprocated Alfred's excited expression. "I'm so excited!" he said in as loud a volume as was possible for him.
Matthew led the way out, and Alfred took one last moment to glance at himself in the mirror, his eyes landing on the different notes of imperfection scattered across his face and shoulders. The pimples and scars, the way his hair rested. He looked like an Omega, like the same filthy Omega that his father always accused him of being.
Al shook his head and trotted out after Mattie, keeping the space between them bouncing with lively chatter over mundane things.
The train pulled into the station. The Greek Alpha from earlier had eventually woken up and disappeared, presumably to change into her robes, leaving the twins alone in the compartment, both bouncing with nervous energy. Some habits were genetic, that was apparent.
They swarmed off in the sea of other students, though were held back with the first years. They were new, and thus had to participate in the traditional boat crossing.
The groundskeeper, who was not the famed Hagrid of old, was small in stature but not in voice. His words spread like wings over the swarming heads of the first years, capturing all of their attention and showering silence where it carried. It held a Chinese accent, letting Al know that the groundskeeper was Chinese. The old man's long black ponytail was whipping about in a frenzy as he pushed clueless first years this way and that towards the different boats. Alfred felt a little bad, but not terribly so. It was his job after all.
"Everybody in the boats! No more than three to a boat please!" The orders were repeated for as long as it took for everyone to sort themselves out.
Matthew and Alfred got their own boat, due in large part to their size and to the fact that they were "big kids" and the others were scared of them.
Alfred tried not to let this bother him, though it was obvious that it caused some agitation. Mattie said nothing, just offered his presence as a springboard for Alfred to bounce his nerves off of.
When they pulled up to the castle, Al fell silent.
The castle was extraordinary, the spires soaring up and blending into the deep blue of the night sky. The stars glistened around the stone structure, their light reflecting along the curves of the towers and the tiles of the roofs. The moon was luminescent above, its soft glow casting a blanket over the bridges and the windows, highlighting the heads of the witches ahead of and around Alfred.
He was so caught up in the towering fortress in front of him that Mattie had to shake his shoulder before he realized that they'd hit the shore. They both hopped out and dragged their boat up onto the rocky shore then moved over to the mass of first years gathering against the wall. They were glancing nervously at one another, anxious smiles the only real form of communication.
An Alpha walked out of the castle, her soft eyes glancing out over their mass before she made a gentle gesture with her right hand. They all swarmed forward in response, Alfred and Matthew leading the pack.
As they walked to the doors of the Great Hall, Alfred struggled to soothe his nerves. He was nervous, that much was clear, and judging by how close Mattie was to him, his brother must be too. Alfred had memorized the layout of the school weeks before boarding the train. He had looked at the different houses, reviewed what each stood for; he'd done his research.
The doors swung open and a sea of faces turned to gaze at the new arrivals. Al felt their eyes scorching through his skin, and he fought the instinctive urge to flinch back. He was stronger than that, and chose to instead brazenly stare out at the curious student body. The mingled scents of Alphas and Omegas and Betas were everywhere in the room, overlaying one another to the point that it was difficult to tell the difference between one or the other. The Headmaster stood at the winged eagle podium, his hands spread out and a giant, beaming grin on his face. The guy was always super enthusiastic, though Alfred didn't mind. Headmaster Rome treated him like an Alpha, and he appreciated that. Made him feel less useless.
"Welcome!" the overly excited headmaster murmured, his wand against his throat. Alfred assumed that he had cast a Sonorus spell. The wand was removed after the hall hushed into silence, and the traditional welcoming speech commenced. Alfred tuned out the majority of it, only catching the part "By the end of this semester, Hogwarts will be a second home."
Al was more distracted by his size in comparison to the surrounding children. He felt much too similar to a Giant amidst the tiny first years, his voice deeper than that of the eleven year olds pitched squeaks. Mattie was gluing himself to his side, and Alfred somehow felt important. He would protect his brother that much he could promise.
At the end of the speech and after the Sorting Hat's traditional rhyming chant, the first years swarmed forward, shifting like an uncontrollable wave of human beings around the stagnant Alfred and Matthew. One particularly brazen eleven-year-old stopped and stared up at Al, initiating a conversation regardless of the importance of silence in the hall. The first names were being called out, but the pipsqueak's stubbornness kept the conversation moving.
Their silly conversation about age was interrupted by the steady voice of the Alpha who was calling out their names. It was Al's turn. Swallowing nervously, he worked to staunch the smell of fear that was no doubt rolling off him in waves. Alphas were always more alert to the smell of an Omega's fear than Omegas were to Alphas's. It kind of sucked, but Alfred was an anomaly. He could sense if an Alpha was scared out of their wits, perhaps due to the extensive amount of time he'd spent around Alpha's throughout most of his developmental years.
Carefully, he sat down on the stool. As he waited for the hat to be dropped on his head, he rubbed his hands together nervously, staring down at the floor between his spread knees. What if he and Mattie were not sorted into the same house? He couldn't believe the thought had never occurred to him before. The school structure was different here than at Salem. They weren't sorted by Nature but rather by qualities. Surely he and Mattie were similar enough… right?
The hat mumbled in his head a moment, considering and tossing aside options. Without a real discussion, the scrap of fabric shouted out to the seething student body "Gryffindor!" before being lifted from Al's head.
Alfred's stomach melted and he somehow managed to stagger his way to the appropriate table. He was greeted by hearty slaps-on-the-back and some annoying white-haired German guy stuffed a turkey leg in his hand. Al didn't have the stomach for food by that point and just managed a wan, wasted smile to the excited House.
He was going to be the only Omega in Gryffindor. The thought terrified him, but thrilled him at the same time. He could do this. He could hold his fucking own.
More confident in himself than before, he turned eagerly to see which house Mattie would be sorted in. He loved Matthew, he did, but he could not picture his brother fitting into Gryffindor. His little Canadian sibling was too soft spoken for his own good. Ravenclaw was a possibility, though, and so was Hufflepuff.
The Sorting hat just brushed Mattie's head before it screamed out "Hufflepuff!" to the populace and was lifted away again. Matthew staggered, wide-eyed and pale, to the Hufflepuff House table, shied away from the welcoming hands and smiles, and took a careful seat at the edge of the bench on the end of the table. A pretty girl sat across from him, her hair in a bouncy ponytail that curled, with one rogue piece of hair springing away from her head. She smiled at Mattie and immediately engaged him in conversation, to which Matthew responded eagerly.
Alfred allowed himself to relax, and turned away. Mattie would be okay. As the rest of the names were called, he focused in on the offered food. It was a banquet, that was for sure. Buttered rolls were spilling out of a basket in the center, situated pleasantly next to a round, greasy turkey, which was sitting next to a large bowl of yellow, creamy looking mashed potatoes. Dishes of asparagus were sprinkled in between, salads and tomatoes and grapes and apples, all round and shiny with that just being washed smell. The aroma of the food was tickling at Al's nose. God, he was hungry.
Alfred reached out and eagerly dolloped some of the appealing mashed potatoes on his plate, accompanying the aforementioned turkey leg, and adding some grapes and a roll to the pile. More foods were lying about, though Al couldn't entirely identify them. His father's household wasn't exactly the most knowledgeable in the way of food. The man couldn't cook, and due to his once-believed nature, Alfred had never learned.
The calling finally ended and throughout the hall, the sound of forks and spoons and knives dinging off of plates echoed about.
Alfred could feel the eyes of the other Gryffindors resting on his face and his back and shoulders and arms. They were curious; they knew he was an Omega. Alfred paused from his eating to give them a warning glare, which they thankfully chose to obey, and all resumed pretty well.
An Alpha settled herself across from him, her pretty chestnut hair falling in a cascade down her left shoulder. She had huge green eyes and lovely tanned skin, a fluff of pink flowers situated in the hollow behind her left ear. She stared at Al a moment before smiling, her smile as stunning as the rest of her.
"You might wanna slow down!" she laughingly suggested, surprising Al with her apparent friendliness. Regardless of this exterior, he sensed that she was not a person he wanted to mess with.
"Er… why?" he asked, struggling to swallow a mouthful of turkey leg. She graciously waited for him to finish chewing before responding.
"There's dessert, you know." Now that Al actually listened to her words, he noticed the hint of an Hungarian accent altering the shape of the syllables. She wasn't naturally English speaking then.
Alfred's eyes widened. "Really!?" he yelped, unable to control himself with his excitement. Dessert had been a relatively rare phenomenon for him throughout most of his life. He only really started to receive it when he got to visit his mother and Mattie more frequently due to his altered status.
"Igen," responded the Alpha. "My name is Elizaveta, by the way. Elizaveta Hédérvary," she held a hand out for Alfred to shake. Al swallowed down his surprise and accepted the proffered palm.
"Alfred, Alfred Jones," he said. Elizaveta's eyebrows furrowed, and Al could tell that she was going to ask about the last name change, but he interrupted her. "Changed after my parent's divorce, you know how it is," he laughed, releasing her hand to wave his hand abstractly in the air. Elizaveta's eyebrows rose in disbelief, but she said nothing more on the matter.
"So you're an Omega?"
Al stiffened. "Yes," he said, immediately on the defensive, "what are you trying to say?"
Elizaveta held up her hands in surrender. "Hey, hey, I was just asking. I meant no offense." She eyed him another moment before grinning. "Defense Against the Dark Arts is so going to be your thing."
The white-haired German from earlier slid onto the bench next to her, shoving aside some hapless third year. His grin was large, and his eyes a blood red, though a hint of blue seemed to creep up from the bottoms of them. He had white hair and pale, pale skin and appeared to have a naturally arrogant disposition.
Alfred wasn't at all sure what to think of him, though he clearly wasn't an Alpha. Didn't smell like one, so no doubt a Beta.
"Elizaveta!" the dude said rather loudly, slinging an arm around her shoulders only to have it dispensed with a glare. He remained, somehow, oblivious to her rejections and turned to look at Alfred. Those eyes weren't as empty as he acted, though, there was a suspicious protectiveness in them. Evidently he cared for Elizaveta, and didn't plan on losing her to some sixth year Omega. Well, fine. Alfred didn't even like Elizaveta in that way, so there was no danger from his department.
"I'm Gilbert, resident Prussian of the illustrious and most awesome Gryffindor house," said Gilbert, holding out a hand for Alfred to shake.
Al took him up on it, but was in faint disbelief over the Prussian bit. "Prussia hasn't been a country since 1945…" said Alfred, trailing off his word in a hint that Gilbert could defend himself.
Defend himself, the Prussian did. "Nonsense! The Prussian mentality hung around until the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989. My family was from there, and I was born in East Germany. I am a Prussian, whether you believe that is possible or not." A glare was sent Al's way, and the American held up his hands in a surrendering manner. He wasn't interested in arguing with Gilbert over the legitimacy of his Prussian identity. It wasn't his business to meddle, just as Elizaveta seemed to be aware of when it came to his last name.
"So you've met Elizaveta, ja?" asked Gilbert, trying once more to sling an arm around Elizaveta and for once not being rejected. Alfred made no comment. It was clear that this relationship was balanced strangely. Eliza clearly held the power, but Gilbert was more than happy to toe the line every once in a while.
"Er, yes. She started talking to me first, so…" Alfred shrugged his shoulders, noticing the way that some of the Gryffindors were once more glancing at him. Elizaveta seemed to notice this as well, as she turned her eyes to send them all one impressive warning look. That could not possibly have had anything to do with her being an Alpha, for that glare had even Alfred shivering, and he'd experienced some nasty glares before.
Gilbert cleared his throat and focused back on Alfred. "I'll show you to your room when this is over. And when the desserts appear, I recommend the German Chocolate Cake."
Elizaveta scoffed. "Please, he thinks he knows everything. The best dessert is clearly the Roulade." Gilbert deferred to her, though it was clearly reluctant. She had used some of that Alpha voice in her tone. It was always hard to resist an Alpha voice, though Alfred was pretty good at it. He hated to be bossed around by someone just because of the fact that they could use a certain aspect of their nature to rule over others.
Even as Elizaveta stopped talking, the array of dinner foods disappeared from in front of them and almost immediately were replaced by cakes and tarts and custards and creams of desserts. There was the solid shine of lights off of chocolate icing, the lightness of sprinkled powdered sugar, caramel apples stuck to white plates and silver trays, delicate pastries arranged in tiers around a central spire.
Alfred didn't know what to go with first. Elizaveta took her Roulade, and Gilbert went for his German Chocolate Cake. Alfred eventually settled on just a regular old chocolate cake slice and watched the couple? across the way from him. He wasn't sure what kind of relationship they had, though it was obvious that both cared for one another.
As he finished off his slice, he glanced back over at the yellow and black Hufflepuff table, taking note of the tiny circle that had gathered around Mattie. The same girl was still with him, appearing to be insisting that Matthew eat some exceptionally flakey pastry. The girl from the train was seated next to him as well, though she appeared to be snoring into her goblet.
Alfred wasn't used to being this quiet, but he was exhausted. And he was pretty sure his heat was coming on, which was unfortunate. There was a reason he used those spells, and the fact that he couldn't eliminate his heat entirely was absolutely terrible. He fucking hated it, and it always screwed him up.
A silent boy who looked roughly his age was seated a little farther along the table from him, watching Gilbert through disapproving and affectionate eyes. His brother perhaps? Alfred figured he might as well ask.
"Hey, are you that dumbass's bro?" he asked, scootching closer to the removed boy and peering interestedly at him.
A long silence greeted him as the blond-haired sixth year sized him up. He was an Alpha, Alfred could smell it and was unfortunately slightly attracted to the smell. Fuck, his heat was close. Maybe in another day or two, or a week. He could never really guess precisely when it would happen, and he was sure it would get him caught in a situation eventually.
"Ja, unfortunately I am," was the response. The guy's voice was surprisingly deep, making Alfred pause a moment. He looked a little uptight, to be completely honest. His blond hair was combed back from his forehead, held in place by gel. He had solemn blue eyes and skin tanner than that of his brother's. It didn't look as if smiles touched his lips all that often.
"What's your name? I'm Alfred."
"Ludwig Beilschmidt."
"Are you a Prussian like your brother?"
"Nein, I'm a German. Only mein Bruder insists that he is Prussian in my family."
Honestly, coaxing conversation out of the guy was exhausting. Alfred had half a mind to give up, but he was made of stronger stuff than that.
"What's your favorite class here?"
"I would have to say that I enjoy Potions."
"Potions? Really? I thought you would like Defense Against the Dark Arts or something." Was Alfred's interested response. Ludwig gave him a measured response but said nothing more after that. Al could tell when he was being bothersome, so he chose to leave the scene. He liked Ludwig, despite the quietude of the German boy, and he figured that making enemies so early on was not a good idea.
Dinner ended rather soon after that, and eventually everyone stood up. Alfred couldn't help his instinct to stick to things he knew, and so far, that was Gilbert and Elizaveta. Luckily for him, Gilbert was Head Beta at Hogwarts, so it wasn't uncommon for him to guide newbies to the Gryffindor common room. They arrived unscathed, and Gil walked Alfred to the Omega wing. He entered along with Al, causing some alarm in the Omega for a moment.
"Aren't the Omega rooms supposed to expel any but an Omega?" asked Alfred suspiciously from where he was standing by his chest. He was strong, sure, but during heat, his strength wasn't exactly a factor.
Gilbert laughed. "I can only enter cause I'm a Beta and you are an Omega. Betas can only enter with Omegas. Alphas can't enter at all, so don't worry. You're safe, and the awesome me would protect you anyway."
Alfred glared at him. "Trust me, I can handle myself," he growled, glaring warningly at Gilbert. The guy had an innate talent for pushing people's buttons, that much was evident. It was a wonder he got to be Head Beta at all.
Gilbert explained the heat rooms and other important things before leaving Alfred to acquainting himself to his very lonely room.
It was a good thing he was used to being alone. But hey, at least he got his pick of the beds. Incidentally, he chose the one by the window so that he could peer out at the Hogwarts grounds. The window dispensed a pretty view of the Quidditch pitch, the three rings on each side blushing beneath the moon's glow. The stands were empty, though they would no doubt be filled by different spectators as games occurred throughout the year. Alfred planned on trying out for the Gryffindor team. He knew that he was pretty good at it, and he couldn't see why he should waste his talents. Besides, this school seemed relatively welcoming to all of their students. He hopefully had a good chance.
After these moments of speculation and fishing out his robes for the first day of school the next day, Al curled up in his bed. It was soft, and squashy and ridiculously comfortable but that didn't mean that he could sleep.
God, he hated sleeping. Nightmares were everywhere, the whisper of disgusting hands, the filthy words of a disappointed father, the shame and disgust of everyone around him.
Nightmares were the worst, but not even they could keep him from passing out in the comfy bed that Hogwarts had supplied him.
αβΩ
Waking up the next morning was an ordeal that Alfred was not willing to go through. Sure, he was excited for the school day. But he was exhausted and had absolutely no desire to crawl out of his warm cocoon of blankets.
But he found his way out, and into his robes—now magically altered to display the Gryffindor crest on the left breast, the borders of it marked out by a thick band of Gryffindor red. A scarf was slung across the chest along with a sweater with thick, horizontal stripes of black and red. A shirt was next to that—more appropriate for summer attire—with a slightly less obnoxiously Gryffindor sense to it. A small Griffin was situated on the left breast of that as well, and it had gold twining about the mythical creature on the black backdrop of the shirt's fabric. Here too, Gryffindor red bordered the collar and a thick horizontal stripe of it circled the shirt's midsection, but that wasn't so bad. Alfred went with the shirt since it was a little hot outside and threw his robe on over that. He wore plain old jeans and converse beneath the robe, tucked his wand into one of the robe's voluminous pockets and set out for the day after running his hand quickly through the mop of hair on top of his head.
Gilbert, upon seeing him, grabbed Al's hand and fled the room, dragging the confused American behind him.
"Come on!" the Prussian cried. Alfred grinned and sprinted after him, figuring that he might as well take part in whatever they were chasing after.
They skidded to a stop next to two students. One was a medium-height Ravenclaw Alpha with shoulder length blond hair, blue eyes, and a wisp of a beard touching his chin. The same asshole Frenchie from yesterday.
"Bonjour, mon bel ami," were his first words as he stooped to brush a kiss to the back of Al's hand. Alfred was unimpressed and took great pleasure in yanking his hand away and rolling his eyes at the Frenchman.
"The name's Alfred, and don't fucking touch me again," was his straight-to-the-point introduction. This sentence earned a chuckle from the pretty Spanish girl standing next to Francis, and a maniacal form of laughter from Gilbert. Al wasn't going to tell them that he meant it. He didn't want another Alpha's unwarranted hands on him. He could still feel the fingers of the last one in his nightmares.
"Francis Bonnefoy, and mon Dieu, you are rude," was Francis's injured response, but he paid Alfred no more ill-meant forms of flirtation.
"I am Maria Cardeu, Head Omega of Hogwarts," said the girl next to Francis. She had a fluff of mahogany-colored hair spilling down to her mid-back and eyes similar to the green of Elizaveta's set in her tanned face. She smiled softly at Alfred, who was more than happy to return a grin of his own, before the group of them set off.
Gilbert was chattering with Francis in a mix of German and French and English, something which Alfred couldn't follow but didn't really care to. Judging by their laughter, the words being shared were fairly vulgar. Judging by Maria's responses, his assumption was correct.
"You are a sixth year, correct?" the pretty Spanish Omega asked him. Alfred nodded his head in response.
"Ah, you'll like Defense Against the Dark Arts. I can just tell, you have a fighting spirit," she said, patting his forearm before sweeping extravagantly into the Great Hall.
The eyes of a particularly mouthy Italian fell upon her immediately, and Alfred watched with interest as the boy made a beeline for her. The kid looked similar to the girl who was speaking with Matthew the previous night, and Alfred would put money on the assumption that the two were twins.
Out of habit, his eyes fell about until they landed on Matthew, who was laughing along with the pretty girl from yesterday. Al chose to temporarily take leave of his friends to go and speak with his brother, asking Gil to save him a seat at the Gryffindor table before scaring the daylights out of Mattie.
The red-faced Canadian turned to glare at Alfred, struggling to hold back a smile at Alfred's pleased grin. "You are rude," was his gentle response, and he playfully swatted Al's hands away from him as Al reached out for a hug.
Once the two were done with their sibling-y interaction, Mattie took a moment to introduce Al to his newly acquired friends. "This is Felicia Vargas, she's related to Headmaster Rome." He gestured to the Italian girl before moving on to the girl from the train. "This here is Hera Karpusi. She's an Alpha, but she's always sleeping," he playfully teased at a strand of her luscious hair.
Alfred was proud of his brother, and he grinned in turn at both of the two people who had been kind enough o make friends with his quiet, introverted brother. Felicia particularly impressed him, though he figured he could get to know her later. He said his goodbyes to his brother, promised him that they would both talk further later, and turned to make his way back to the Gryffindor table.
What he wasn't planning on was smacking dead into a Slytherin. This Slytherin was slightly shorter than him, an amount that was barely noticeable. He had messy blond hair, piercing green eyes, and relatively tanned skin.
"Oi!" was the British-accented voice that greeted Alfred. "Watch where you're going, you duffer."
Alfred took offense immediately. "Watch where you're going!" was his snapped response and he crossed his arms to demonstrate that he was not going to lose this. The Slytherin's eyes narrowed and he crossed his own arms. It appeared that this was going to draw on forever.
Fortunately for both of them, Peter's little voice broke in, the kid that Al and Mattie had met just the previous day.
"Artie, do you think mum and da sent anything?" was Peter's childish and hopeful question. Arthur was appropriately distracted, though he sent Alfred one final glare before moving his attention to his little brother.
Alfred chose to leave and not draw out the confrontation. Something told him that they could resume it later, though he desperately tried to quell his disappointment. He rather liked to have this mystery guy's attention; it felt somehow special. The Slytherin looked to be the type to not care about much, and to know that he had gotten a rise out of him was a strange thing to take pride in.
Alfred made it through the rest of breakfast with no further confrontation. He had gotten his schedule at some point while scarfing down his breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, croissants, and orange juice.
His first class of the day was the terribly un-exciting Potions. Go figure. He wasn't terrible at it, but it wasn't exactly his best subject. No, he was willing to bet that his best would be this much talked about Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Potions was uneventful, and so was Herbology. Lunch was spent surrounded by some other members of Gryffindor, including a brash Turkish Alpha named Sadik and a rather amusing Portuguese Beta named Adriana who was rather a hoot, and very talented with a toothpick.
The afternoon class was Divination, and Alfred had to say that it was the dumbest thing ever to have been dreamt up.
For starters, who the fuck could read fortunes into tea leaves? That was dumb. And when the ridiculous teacher gazed at him through his squinty Asian eyes, his slightly wrinkled fingers curled around the cup, he just knew that this class was going to pain him.
"You have been through great suffering," the teacher murmured, his voice the same soothing tone as it had been last night. Apparently they gave jobs out around here like it was Christmas morning, and thus the groundskeeper got to also be the Divination teacher. Al could not see how the two jobs were close to being related to each other, but he could try to reserve judging the school too harshly so early on. Everyone and everything had their imperfections.
"Yeah?" he asked him, not at all attempting to hide the boredom and exasperation in his voice.
"You will go through great suffering in your future too," he was making an obvious effort to work some form of mystique into his voice, but it was very much not working.
"Great," was Al's sassy response, "thanks for the memo."
Thankfully, after that brief encounter, he moved on to more willing participants. Al was not going to admit that his words did have some form of an affect on him. God, he hated Divination. What the fuck was the point of it, anyway? To make someone feel terrible about their past? To force bad memories?"
He glared moodily from the corner the rest of class and was the first out the door as soon as they were released. He had a lot of homework for the first day and absolutely no desire to do it. So he figured he'd go out and see if he could find some passageways or something. Anything but sit in the Gryffindor common room and continue to get ogled at. It was getting old real quick, and Elizaveta and Gilbert's protection was rather annoying. He could hold his own, thank you very much.
Walking the halls alone was kind of… well… lonely. Alfred's left hand was ghosting over the bricks, feeling the spaces between them for a hidden lever, brushing his wand over curious looking stones or statues. But nothing was making itself aware to him, and by the time it was almost dinner time, he had found absolutely nothing.
Except for a curious looking Slytherin. He was a tall one, with wispy, pale blond hair and a pale face. He had a rather large nose, and had practically shrouded himself in his robe, a green and black scarf slung about his neck. His wand was in his large hand, and he was strolling along rather unruffled in his combat boots. He spared Alfred a gentle smile and glance through his violet eyes before pulling to a stop.
"You are new student, da?" he asked, tilting his head childishly sideways.
"Yeah, the name's Alfred," was the American student's cheerful response. They shook hands. "You're Ivan, right?" he'd heard about the Russian. Heard that it was best not to piss him off, heard that he was dangerous. But the big guy didn't seem so bad, just misunderstood maybe. He wasn't doing anything to make Al's Omega instincts go on red alert, so that was something.
"Why are you wandering the halls?" was Alfred's question after Ivan nodded his yes to the earlier one.
"Oh, you know. The statues are very pretty," responded Ivan in Russian-tinged English.
"I'd say some of them are creepy, actually," said Alfred thoughtlessly, regarding one that was particularly gruesome to their left. It involved a witch's head being guillotined off, a splatter of fake cement blood splashing down onto the platform. The witch above her was holding a nasty axe, coated in the same cement substance that had made up her blood. The witch's face was shrouded in a black mask, miming an appearance of the grim reaper.
"I think that is what makes them lovely," said Ivan, following Alfred's gaze to the ghastly statue.
"Whatever you say, man. I still think they're kinda gross." The conversation plummeted from there, and they both eventually moved on, but Al could feel a friendship forming, and it was one that he intended to keep, regardless of the fact that Ivan was very much an Alpha. The big guy wasn't too bad, and he seemed unassuming, as if he would never ask anything of Alfred that he didn't absolutely need. Besides, Ivan was an outcast. Alfred could get that, so he figured he might as well befriend the big guy.
His next mission of the day was dinner. Unfortunately for him, there was one main obstacle to this, and that obstacle stood in the irritating form of the Slytherin he'd bumped into at breakfast. And he looked angry.
So I hope you guys enjoyed this. I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but yeah. I think I got characters right, or at least semi-right. I don't really know, man. I'm just writing.
Have a lovely day and a fantastic holiday!