He's My Brother PV S. Alexander Finished

His trunk, and he realised this mid-step, lay open between his feet on the busy platform. His mother had apparently decided that now was the time to once again rummage through it, sat as she was on her knees and getting her light blue skirt dirty (which she allowed herself to do only like this, once a year). Scott didn't even care to ask what she was looking for this time, but merely sighed and smiled at the amused looks his father and brother were giving him over her back.

"Oh! There! I found it. Thank God. I really wouldn't have let you go without it. Well, I suppose I could've sent it to you... but then, what if you'd wanted it on the train?"

Gretchen waved something triumphantly above her head before neatly replacing it in his trunk (Scott still didn't check to see what it was), and closed it with a flick of her wand before jumping to her feet again. She brushed her knees, turned to glare for a second at her sniggering husband, and then threw her arms around her youngest son with a coo.

They were the same height now, Scott was sure of it. It wasn't something he could really prove while she was wearing heels, which she always was (even more so these days, which only reinforced his suspicion), but even if he could- he supposed it wouldn't really hurt anyone to tilt his head down a little so she could rest her chin on it still, for just a year longer.

Over her shoulder, Scott gave another smile to Silas. Even though his brother had promised over and over to stay long enough to see him off, as he'd done for him and Ben every year since he left school himself, Scott hadn't dared be so sure. Silas and his father had discussed it as recently as the night before, whether or not it'd be best for him to return to Estonia already then. Jacob had argued that Silas was already missing far too much by staying with them for so long, but Scott knew his father better than to believe that's actually what he was worrying about.

Jacob had been giving his son an out.

The weeks that Silas had spent in London with the rest of Scott's family had been tense, to say the least. Scott had felt it. Gretchen had definitely felt it, and if there was one thing that could alter Jacob's otherwise so equable character, then it was something causing his wife distress.

For the largest portion of their few weeks together, Silas and Ben hadn't exchanged a single word with each other. And Scott could see now, over his mother's shoulder, how his oldest brother was searching the many windows of the train beside them with obvious concern.

Scott couldn't help but wish they'd at least said goodbye to each other.

But then, finally, his mother let him go. Though both her hands remained on either side of his face, cupping it very unnecessarily. Scott squirmed.

"Oh no you don't! Let me have this. Let's see..."

As his mother bit her lip in trying to think of something new to say, Scott felt his father's hand land on his shoulder.

Perhaps it was the Irish in him, but Jacob was definitely less talkative than his wife (and, as all could attest, her son). But the smile he gave said a lot anyway. As did the one Scott then got from his brother, as Silas took to stand next to him.

"Stay out of trouble, ok?"

Silas had whispered this, under the sound of their mother's humming. Scott was about to laugh, because no one had ever said that to him without intending it as a joke, but as he followed Silas' gaze from his own and to the windows of the train once again, he nodded in understanding.

"Don't worry."

Then, as his mother apparently embraced leaving their goodbyes at that, Gretchen began wafting the air around her as she always did.

And off they were.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then something hit his shoulder. Hard.

"Ouch!"

"What do you say? New year, same us?"

Scott's grimace turned into a wide smile in what couldn't have been more than half a second.

Rubbing his arm in mock agony, the boy leant forward to half-hug-half-pat his friend hello. She couldn't possibly look very different from when he last saw her of course, but for some reason Ami continued to make a new impression every time they met. He always needed a second, and the second was always worth it.

"Let's go grab a compartment before all the stinky first years gobble them up. Where's Lady? Leo's been pining, the spoiled little brat."

Laughing, Scott picked up his trunk from where it stood on the ground, and gestured with his entire arm to the spot before which it had been standing.

Lady Madeleine stretched her back tiredly, apparently understanding their cue to get a move on, and made an inaudible yawn before starting to circle Scott's legs.

"She's missed him too, I'm sure. She's just... not very expressive about it. Bear in mind, she's French. Not Italian."

Picking her up too, Scott chuckled and turned back to Ami with her pressed against his chest. "New year same us" really was, however unaware she might be of it, the very best he could wish for at the moment. Something he'd been waiting for quite dearly, for almost three weeks.

"Compartment it is."

Happy to finally be making his way on board the express, Scott couldn't help but grin all the way from the platform steps and through the aisles. He only stopped smiling for the two seconds it took to heave his trunk back up his hip outside one compartment in particular, as he accidentally took a look inside it.

No wonder Silas hadn't been able to spot him. Ben was sitting by a window facing away from the platform.

Hurrying, so not to be noticed (and, admittedly, so not to get hit in the shins once more by Ami's horrible cat carrier) Scott rushed forward until they reached what could've very well been the last empty compartment of the train. Sliding the glass door open with a horrendous noise, Scott bowed theatrically to his friend, gesturing for her to enter first.

"She's missed him too, I'm sure. She's just... not very expressive about it. Bear in mind, she's French. Not Italian."

Ami was rambling on, in a way almost comparable to his own, and Scott would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying it immensely. It meant, he thought, that she was as excited to see him again as he was to see her; and that thought was quite comforting to him at the moment. After all, excited was supposed to be is default! He'd missed it.

All in all, his friend was (as expected) doing a wonderful job of distracting and cheering him up. He'd wished for her to bring up a subject before and she'd just thrown at least a hundred his way- the first, as soon as he closed the compartment door after the two of them.

"I've got to say, mom's really worried about my grades this year..."

Scott had only met Ami's mother for the first time this summer. During the few moments he'd spent in her presence, she'd reminded him an odd lot of his own, being that they both looked quite similar: blonde, slender... but at the same time, she'd seemed so entirely different to him. Especially with Ami. They ...spoke differently to each other. Different from how he and his own mother did. But other than the fact that Ami called her something so alien as mom, he couldn't actually put his finger on what it was that made such a difference.

He'd always said mother, himself. Jacob, on the other hand (and he hadn't often considered this), was dad... To Silas and Ben of course, he was da. When either of them felt like messing with Gretchen they'd put on even more of an accent and call him Oul Fella. Scott smiled.

"I like your mother, too." He concluded, after Ami mentioned how keen Abella had apparently been on him during his stay. It made him happy too, to know he was coming off as polite as he was trying to. Nervously, on the other hand, he pretended the last thing she added escaped his attention...

Scott had taken the seat opposite to Ami's as soon as his trunk lay steady on the rack above it, and was now sitting with Lady Madeleine in his lap as he watched his friend move on to another subject. She didn't look much like her mother, either... They'd discussed this, he remembered, already in their first year: how she looked so much like her father and he his mother. He couldn't help but wonder, though, wether that was as true anymore.

"We need to do things this year, Scotty. We need tales to tell our kids that they'll never believe, except they'd know that we were friends of course. Maybe we can shave your head? No, your mom would kill me..."

Sitting up straight again, with Lady Madeleine leaving his lap with what could only be described as a feline tut, Scott stared at his friend warningly.

"Yes. She would." He emphasised. "And so would I, mind you. You might've been able to pull off the suddenly-without-hair-look but I," Scott ruffled up his coiffure with his hand and swayed his head back and fourth theatrically. "I need this."

Instantly regretting this move, Scott quickly combed through his hair with his fingers to replace it with an upset grimace. It was longer than it had ever been now. All his life so far, his mother had sat him down in the kitchen to cut it off before the front reached his eyebrows (or rather, she'd charm a pair of scissors to do it for her), but before the beginning of term this year Scott had asked her not to. She had been... sceptical. Pleads had been made. His brother's name had been mentioned in warning. Although this only made Scott laugh, because if it was his hair turning into something in the likes of Ben's that she was worried about then she needn't do so at all.

"Or maybe we can talk about something else, anything you want! Honestly, I'm excited for summer vacation already, and I want to learn more Ed Sharon songs on the guitar because, to be honest, he's a pretty good songwriter. Very British, that one. Do you think I'll finally stop sounding like John Mulaney, and sound more like... like Elton John? We like Elton John, right? John Mulaneu's funny. I wish he'd been in Chicago when we were there, but I guess luck wasn't on our side."

Was this how other people felt, talking to him?

Smiling only one more time, because it sure felt like the redhead in front of him was running out of words, Scott nodded patiently as she mentioned at least two names he recognised. It was wonderful all the same.

"Sure felt like luck was on our side, to me." He replied. "Felt like luck was on our side the entire time. At least, that's what my letters home will tell you. If you ask my mother, she'll think it didn't even rain on our trip over there. I swear, she'd have sent for someone to pick me up. Claim the rainwater in America could be acidic, or something like that... I did miss her though. I won't lie to you. Don't know how Silas manages..."

No one in Scott's family enjoyed travelling and being away as much as his oldest brother did. No one had less of a hard time with goodbyes. Scott had to assume he got that from Anna, but couldn't know for sure.

"It was pretty much thanks to him that I got to go at all, you know. He was the one that convinced Mother. Had to convince dad, too, but that didn't take as long."

Scott smirked fondly as Lady made her way back onto his lap again, turning her head towards his stomach and away from her feline friend. Perhaps they had had an argument.

"I do, in either case, expect that returning to school a more well-travelled and versed young man should only do me favours. I almost got the accent down, remember? As for you I think it's take a few more years to shake it. Coffee.... Mom...." mimicking his friend, and quite poorly so, Scott gave a short, strange laugh.

He was happy, he really was- but he also felt tired. That too, was a relatively new feeling.

And he didn't care for it.

"Lessons in accents, that'd be a "thing". Though you probably won't want mine. It's the painful result of two parents trying their absolute best to make sure the other's dialect didn't leave a trace, and failing. If you want to hear a proper one, spend an evening trying to understand what my grandfather says. The muggle one. Mother has tried since she first met him but still just smiles and nods until she can ask one of us what he's on about. Then it usually turns out to be local fishing politics and she still won't understand. ...The beard doesn't help."

Sinking further into his seat and, to his great upset, yawning- Scott pulled out a chocolate bar from one of his pockets, broke off a piece, and held it out for her. He was really trying his best to act as normal as he could, because if she asked, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to name what was wrong with him.

This, he decided, could not turn out to be his new default.

"I like your mother, too."

"Yes. She would. And so would I, mind you. You might've been able to pull off the suddenly-without-hair-look but I... I need this."

"Sure felt like luck was on our side, to me. Felt like luck was on our side the entire time. At least, that's what my letters home will tell you. If you ask my mother, she'll think it didn't even rain on our trip over there. I swear, she'd have sent for someone to pick me up. Claim the rainwater in America could be acidic, or something like that... I did miss her though. I won't lie to you. Don't know how Silas manages..."

"It was pretty much thanks to him that I got to go at all, you know. He was the one that convinced Mother. Had to convince dad, too, but that didn't take as long."

"I do, in either case, expect that returning to school a more well-travelled and versed young man should only do me favours. I almost got the accent down, remember? As for you I think it's take a few more years to shake it. Coffee.... Mom...."

"Lessons in accents, that'd be a "thing". Though you probably won't want mine. It's the painful result of two parents trying their absolute best to make sure the other's dialect didn't leave a trace, and failing. If you want to hear a proper one, spend an evening trying to understand what my grandfather says. The muggle one. Mother has tried since she first met him but still just smiles and nods until she can ask one of us what he's on about. Then it usually turns out to be local fishing politics and she still won't understand. ...The beard doesn't help."

"Vegan, remember? But thank you."

Retracting the chocolate piece he'd offered her, and sticking it in his own mouth, Scott uttered a quiet "Sorry, forgot..." with his mouth full. Not that he had, really. But he was feeling distracted still, something that, and he couldn't help but let this upset him, she seemed to pick up on fairly quickly.

"You've been quiet. Well, quieter than normal. Don't tell me I have to be the upbeat one this year, man."

Her words were light-hearted, but he didn't like it. He didn't like that she could notice there was anything off about him whatsoever... Scott had always had worries, and little sad thoughts in his head- but they'd never shown on his face, or altered his behaviour in any significant way- he'd never let it. He'd never been "quieter than normal" before.

Not ever.

When he was little and got upset, Scott had been the type to keep babbling for hours in order to make sure that absolutely everybody around him could understand perfectly well how he was feeling. But now, he couldn't even explain it to himself. So what was the point of trying to figure out where to start? Besides, why should Ami have to be the upbeat one? It wasn't her job. He'd taken it upon himself in the past, and it had never been too difficult for him. That's just the way things were supposed to be.

"Don't worry about that." Was all he whispered, because she continued talking as Leo jumped onto the seat next to him, suspiciously eyeing the chocolate bar Scott conveniently switched hands for. "Just tired."

Still looking at her cat, and petting his own with his free hand, Scott listened to Ami talking about the academic year to come. Scott knew she'd studied during the summer, and had a feeling that this year she just might take the subjects as seriously as he did. Not that he cared either way, there wasn't a mark in the world that could convince him of anything other than his friend's brilliance. A unique kind of brilliance, maybe. But brilliance all the same.

"Well. Mother always liked runes, but whenever she mentions that Dad bangs his forehead against the nearest surface. He failed that subject, I think... He's like me, not good with reading of any kind. Silas took Muggle Studies, though. For the same reason as you mentioned, I think, too. He's always been friends with muggles."

As far as Scott's memory went, Silas had been friends will all neighbours they'd ever had. And he'd been allowed to be that, too, since he wasn't at all the same risk as Scott or Ben were at the same age. Never any accidents due to emotionally charged magic, no need to even have a parent around to watch him. He'd always had an impressive control that Scott, and he was willing to bet his other brother, too, had always envied.

Realising how his mind was slipping again, Scott cleared his throat to bring himself back, and tried to find the volume that sounded most like his usual voice.

"Ben took Divination. Hates every second of it, keeps saying so at least, but ever since he let slip about the subject to our grandmother he hasn't been able to bring himself to drop it. She asks him to read her palm every Easter... makes stuff up of course. She's probably expecting me to give it a go as well. For a Roman Catholic, she's quite a fan of the occult."

At this, Scott felt the light and long expected thud of a cat landing in his lap. Leo had finally leaped for the chocolate bar, and Scott wasn't a second too early when he pulled his hand far away.

"Oh Jesus, Leo, stop it! This cat, I swear, thinks the world is his clam. Or whatever the saying's supposed to be."

"Oyster." Scott corrected quietly, as he placed the chocolate bar back in his pocket and out of the animal's sight.

"Absolutely crazy! Seriously, don't be afraid to move him if he gets too comfortable."

"Don't worry about that." He said, as he began petting Leo, too. One continuous and meditative stroke- over both his and Lady's backs... This, he figured, might just do the trick. Might just calm him down, and remind him where he was: in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, on his way to one of his favourite places in the world, with his best friend to keep him company.

At that moment, Scott didn't feel so odd or uncomfortable at all.

Can't have this now, can we?

"-Did you know, in America, 13-year-olds go on dates and get pregnant?"

Scott suddenly choked on whatever little piece of chocolate he still had in his mouth, and began coughing uncontrollably in panic. Lady Madeleine seemed very annoyed with this, but her comfort was, perhaps for the first time in his life, not one of Scott's main concerns. Not even close. His concerns had just started spinning around the room.

What was she talking about now? Surely not what he thought she was talking about. They didn't talk about that. Or think.

"Now, I'm hoping for the former and not the latter, personally, because kissing is kind of gross, and everyone knows that kissing leads to babies... and honestly, babies are a little gross, too. Thank god I missed Scout's whole newborn phase, I might've vomited if I'd been there for it. Do you think anyone would want to date us?"

As soon as he finished coughing, Scott's wide, green eyes blinked. Then they blinked again. Then his cheeks turned a bright shade of pink and he decided abruptly that, once again, petting their cats was the priority that should be occupying most of his valuable attention. After all, what could be more important? As far as his ears were concerned, Ami had stopped talking at that question. Forever. And besides, the two creatures in his lap were just so wonderfully soft and pretty...

Psst..... you know what else is soft and pretty? A GIRL!

Coughing nervously again, Scott stopped petting the cats and braided his fingers together in a way he never did naturally.

"...so I'll go first. Just to be on the safe side."

"Right. Yes. Good idea. Good plan. Great. No, wait-"

Scott made a slight groan at his own awkwardness, and turned his head to look out the window. The mid-day sun was still lighting up the cloud-filled sky, but he could see his reflection clearly anyway- as rows of trees outside was darkening the view.

Begrudgingly, he realised seen that exact face before in the reflection of the antechamber mirror in their apartment. It had been about one year prior to this. No, exactly one year... They'd all been getting ready in the hall, with his mother rushing up and down the stairs to make sure everything was properly packed for his end Ben's journey (just as she had earlier this day) and the two had been left alone by the door.

That's when Ben had, without missing a beat of Gretchen disappearing out of earshot, remarked that Scott was finally about to return to his girlfriend. And so, from over his shoulder, the twelve-year-old had been made painfully aware of just how imperial red his face could turn.

He wasn't so sure he'd ever be senseless enough to let Ami know that's what Ben called her. She already didn't like him.

"I don't believe you're vicious creatures..." Was what he said instead, relenting to her topic and lowering his voice. He slowly started petting their cats again, glad that he hadn't scared them off with his sudden distress. Then again, what did he know? He didn't have any sisters. The girls he knew best were his cousins, and except for Mia (though not always except for her), Ami would maybe have been right to call them that. He wouldn't himself, of course. He wouldn't ever. But he'd spent enough Christmases in his life with both Maye and Maya Mia's back at it again with the ridiculous name combinations to know how well they could use tears for their advantage, just the way Ami was describing.

But he wasn't an idiot. Most girls weren't Alexanders, and most boys weren't either.

Thank God for that...

Scott smiled, even though he was still pink, and met her eyes again. There was something about the way she was talking to him, even though the topic was questionable, that still managed to pick him up.

"But if you're really that worried, I suppose theres nothing I can do to stop you. Protect away. Actually, I know someone who'd probably be very pleased with that arrangement." He chuckled, and assumed she'd know it was Gretchen he was referring to. "She'd probably pay you, even, if you offered. Ben would be upset though... He's got an arsenal of jokes in store that he won't be able to use with you keeping them away from me."

He was avoiding the word girls like it was hellfire, because it was, but as Scott was slowly returning to the good mood he'd gotten a taste of before anyway, he started narrowing his eyes and study his friend jokingly.

"I'm older." He said, matter-of-factly.

"And a Gryffindor. Shouldn't I be protecting you? From kissing and gross babies, I mean, which by the way doesn't exist... Are perhaps boys not vicious creatures, in your book? Because if I'm your only reference for that then I feel obligated to tell you I'm not a very good one."

"Well. Mother always liked runes, but whenever she mentions that Dad bangs his forehead against the nearest surface... Silas took Muggle Studies, though... Ben took Divination."

"Right. Yes. Good idea. Good plan. Great. No, wait- I don't believe you're vicious creatures..."

"Protect away. Actually, I know someone who'd probably be very pleased with that arrangement."

"I'm older. And a Gryffindor. Shouldn't I be protecting you? From kissing and gross babies, I mean, which by the way doesn't exist...

"Are perhaps boys not vicious creatures, in your book? Because if I'm your only reference for that then I feel obligated to tell you I'm not a very good one."

"You're definitely not my only reference. Although I think it goes without saying that you're my favorite."

No matter how embarrassed he was, there was no not smiling at that. She was strange, his friend, and very different from himself- but she never ceased to be a good one, or let him forget that he was a good one too. She reminded him of Silas in that sense. Compliments felt more sincere coming from them. Like they meant more.

"Can't understand how you're related to Ben, to be honest. You're so different... but still, two halves of the same pickle, I guess."

As did things like that.

Scott's heart sunk a little, realising how she must've thought of his brother ever since she noticed how differently he was behaving. The speed with which she could make that connection worried him, since it meant he should probably try and make it as well. But he didn't want to.

There was something in what she said, as well. He'd always thought so too, that they were as different as can be (as had Ben), but what had always stuck with him was the way his mother would insist on disagreeing. Every time he'd come to her after a fight with his brother (because it was always the two of them), she would reveal to him how alike she actually thought they were.

Ben and Scott were both, unlike Silas (who must really have gotten everything from his mother, since he was so unlike all of them in every respect) and Gretchen, clearly driven by their emotions. Nothing else came close.

It was this notion of his mother's that Scott resorted to now, more frequently with every day that passed, in order to cling on to that connection.

"Has he been behaving himself? If he's being an ass again, you have to tell me.

The smile that had occupied him since she'd joked about him being her favourite reference, and that had faded slightly but hung about like a ghost after her comparison, vanished.

Was it horrible to say he regretted ever telling her?

Scott couldn't imagine anyone he'd sooner trust, or rather turn to in times of emotional turmoil than the girl sitting in front of him at this very moment (after all, he knew he'd be there for her), and yet he couldn't help but remember the disappointment he'd felt at her last reaction.

She was being a good friend, he supposed and realised. She was protective by nature, too. But there was nothing in the world that Scott liked less than anger. It was the angry parts of his brother that broke his heart, the angry parts of himself that scared him, and the angry parts of his friend that made his eyes freeze in a hollow sort of gaze.

"I mean, I'm sure you can take care of it yourself, and he probably doesn't mean it or anything... But seriously, give me the word and I'll break that stupid nose of his. What a great first impression that would be."

"I'll keep that in mind..."

She hadn't been able to pretend she was giving his brother the benefit of the doubt for very long. Scott felt like he was being unfair to her, on some level. Like he was supposed to laugh and see that she was only being a protective friend, but instead he as if glued the palms of his arms as he crossed them at the thought of it all.

What if that was something she would actually do? He knew his friend, it was a possibility. He just couldn't understand how she could think that he, since he needed to assume that she knew him at least half as well as he felt he knew her, would be soothed by such a promise of violence... Violence against someone he loved. And violence by someone he loved, as well.

It annoyed him. Well, it did more than that. It tortured him to think of how she must be seeing him. How she must be seeing the both of them. Dumb and in need of protection, arrogant and horribly malicious... It as if forced him to mirror the defensiveness she was displaying herself.

"We have the same stupid nose, by the way."

That was a lie, but he was trying to get his reaction across without telling her any more. He couldn't very well trust that her potential advice would be very helpful to him if he did, should it follow along the same lines. Would she be at all surprised, anyway, by his tone? She knew that family was the most important thing to him. She knew it very well.

Perhaps even it was this knowledge that had her changing the subject back again.

"Anyways, boys aren't vicious at all. Girls are absolutely ruthless, you know. They'll do just about anything to get their way if they want it badly enough. But boys... well, they've got the backbones of chocolate eclairs. If you smile nicely at them, I guarantee you, 95% of them will faint. Uh... no offence, or anything. I think you're in the minority, though. Most of the time."

Scott smiled weakly and shook his head. "It's okay... You're probably right, anyway. You know more about this than I do."

Scott thought for a moment moment about Silas' girlfriends, but couldn't imagine his brother fainting because of any of them.

Then, when it came to Ben, he chuckled to himself as he realised he damn near could.

"I wouldn't faint, I don't think... Then again, to quote him," Scott didn't even bother explaining who he meant. "-I have as good an attention to girls as I do my own business."

Embarrassed again, albeit less light-heartedly so than before, Scott shuffled in his seat.

"We have the same stupid nose, by the way."

"It's okay... You're probably right, anyway. You know more about this than I do."

"I wouldn't faint, I don't think... Then again, to quote him- I have as good an attention to girls as I do my own business."

thread finished.