7:30 PM

Disclaimer: With every chapter, I do solemnly swear, my bank account is up to nothing.

In one way, the Man Behind the Curtain was the luckiest man at Hogwarts… because barring the destruction of his portrait, with him in it, he would ‘live’ long enough to learn how the stories of every one of his Slytherins would end.

He wondered if he would have to wait for official word on the new roster, or if he would receive the blow-by-blow account directly from the young Hippogriffs’ mouths.

Al’s voice echoed down the corridors. “I’ll be shocked if Kent survives this season,” he said. “His instinct for self-preservation is nil. He’s just as likely to block a Bludger with his body as he is to try to hit it with the bat. I give it two games, tops, before you replace him.”

“Oh, why don’t you take Divination?” Rose grumbled.

“If he does get injured, he might make a passable Keeper once he recovers,” Scorpius said, as if to comfort the apparently doomed Kent, who was likely out engaging in foolish horseplay with his mates and entirely oblivious to their dire predictions. “He definitely blocks a lot of daylight.”

“Anyone’ll be better than Dunstan,” Rose muttered.

“Why, you’re welcome, dearest Rosie. I was happy to make the suggestion that got you on the team,” Al said, aggravating her all over again.

“I got on the bloody alternate bench, and by beating the starch out of the Bludger,” Rose countered.

“Please, you two,” Scorpius all but whined. The eavesdropper in the portrait found the tone rather familiar.

“I still can’t believe you flew against your best friend—and beat him,” Rose said, clearly still vexed with Al.

Scorpius intervened. “It’s fine, it really it is. I’d be too nervous to catch the Snitch a real game. I’ll keep Rose company on the bench until her turn comes up,” he said.

“Well, unless they get Rose on the pitch as the better Beater, you’ll get your chance to replace me sooner rather than later,” Al said, sounding entirely too cheery for someone who was contemplating getting crushed by a Bludger. “I trust Rankin and Kent about as far as I can throw them without magic. Work on those nerves, Snidge.”

“Yes, and please find a better way to settle them than by visiting Hagrid’s beasts—or at least, if you must visit, find an excuse to get away before he invites us to lunch,” Rose complained.

Al sighed. “Yeah, talk about having a bad stomach. I could hardly fit in any dinner.”

“That will be the day, Albus Severus Potter,” Rose said in an uncanny imitation of their grandmother.

“I know, I know! I just... don't know how to beg off without upsetting him," Scorpius said defensively. "He's rather emotional, and it's simply not Quidditch, seeing such a big fellow snuffling into his handkerchief."

"I don't think it would upset him to say that we have to study," Rose said, in some danger of sounding prim.

“Good plan, except you'd actually make us do it,” Al joked, keeping the back-and-forth echoing right down the corridor to the Slytherin Common Room.

He managed to pretend to read for three entire minutes before slipping off to the landscape in Professor Davis’ sitting room to demand all the details of this season’s roster.

While he was at it, they must seriously discuss the possibility of placing some sort of painting in the faculty box—away from those damned flapping banners.