Chapter Text
Harry explained all about Mr and Mrs Weasley’s argument and the warning Mr Weasley had just given him. When he’d finished, Ron and Romulus looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over mouth. She finally lowered them to say, “Sirius Black escaped to come after you ? Oh, Harry… you’ll have to be really, really careful. Don’t go looking for trouble, Harry…”
“I don’t go looking for trouble,” said Harry, nettled. “Trouble usually finds me.”
“How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?” Said Ron shakily.
They were taking the news worse than Harry had expected. He looked at Romulus, waiting for him to say something – and he remembered part of Romulus’ letter earlier in the summer.
“Weren’t you going to tell me something?” He asked. “You said things hadn’t exactly been quiet your end, but you daren’t say in a letter?”
Ron and Hermione turned to look at Romulus, too.
He looked around at them. Not two months ago he’d sat there and told them his father was Lord Voldemort, and now he was about to tell them…
“It’s just that… Sirius Black is my uncle,” he said quickly. “Well, sort of. Second uncle. My mother and he are cousins.”
Harry shook his head slowly.
“Are you just related to every awful wizard in history, or what?” Ron blurted, and Romulus laughed a little bit.
“Apparently.”
“Well, all the awfulness seems to have dissipated when it got to you, didn’t it?” Hermione told him, going bright red as soon as she’d said it, clearly having not meant to do so out loud. Romulus smiled at her, but she was now staring out the window.
~*~*~
Romulus’ first Quidditch match drew ever nearer, and every time they had a free moment, he and Harry were discussing tactics. Harry would never give up Gryffindor secrets, but he was helping Romulus to feel more confident every time he suggested something.
Harry, Ron and Hermione walked with him down to the Quidditch pitch that day. They didn’t exactly want Slytherin to win the cup, but they did want to support their friend. Angelina had, earlier that day, complained to Harry about his decision to cheer Romulus on.
He had retorted by telling her that he wanted to play against Slytherin in the final match, that it would be refreshing to have a real opponent on their team. She was still very annoyed at him, though.
Harry gave Romulus an encouraging pat on the back as they reached the changing rooms.
“Remember, don’t let yourself get distracted –” Harry said.
“Avoid the beaters at all cost –” Ron added.
“Do me a favour and don’t let Diggory win,” Harry finished firmly.
Romulus looked expectantly at Hermione. She rolled her eyes at him. “ Do try not to get yourself injured, like Harry always manages to.”
The four of them laughed a little, and Romulus headed off into the changing rooms, his sleek black Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One slung over his shoulder.
Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way up to the stands, joining Dean, Seamus, Neville and Ginny.
From the moment the whistle blew, the three of them were cheering for Romulus. Several of their Gryffindor brethren looked extremely confused, as did the Slytherins on the other side of the stands, but they ignored them.
Thirty minutes into the match, and Hufflepuff were seventy points up, with Slytherin at a measly twenty. Harry jumped when an emerald green blur shot over his head, trailed by a bright yellow – Romulus was going after the Snitch, with Diggory hot on his heels.
“Macmillan with the quaffle and – blimey!” Lee Jordan’s voice called, “Lestrange has seen the Snitch! He’s heading straight down to the ground with Diggory an inch behind him, he’s going to end the match –”
There was a great groaning from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw crowds. Romulus had pulled out of the dive at the last moment, leaving Diggory to crash straight into the hard grass at top speed. He rolled off his broom, scrambled towards it and took flight again, blood dripping from his nose.
“FOUL! HE WAS FEINTING! FOUL!” Seamus yelled. Madam Hooch was just about to blow her whistle.
“AND LESTRANGE CATCHES THE SNITCH, GAINING SLYTHERIN ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS AND ENDING THE MATCH!” Lee shouted through his megaphone.
Everyone was very confused, and when all the players landed, there was lots of shouting going on between them and Madam Hooch. Diggory landed last, and hurried over to her. The shouting died down a little bit, but Harry still couldn’t tell what Diggory and Madam Hooch were talking about.
He saw Diggory nod, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle. “Slytherin have a fair win,” she announced to the stadium. The students groaned again, but Slytherin house flew into an excited frenzy.
Harry watched as Diggory limped towards Romulus and held out his hand. Romulus looked quite worried, but took it anyway. Cedric seemed to be smiling under all the blood, and Madam Pomfrey was now trying to clean him up while he talked to Romulus.
“I don’t understand,” Hermione said, looking at Harry and Ron, “What happened? Why did Madam Hooch have to declare the match? Rom caught the snitch.”
“The Wronski Feint is practically illegal,” Ron said, and explained further at Harry and Hermione’s confused looks. “One seeker pretends he’s seen the snitch, and starts ‘following’ it. They wait until the other seeker is literally right up their arse –”
“Ronald!”
“And then dive for the ground, only to swing out at the last minute and send the other seeker crashing to their doom. Only this time, it looks like Rom was actually following the snitch. Diggory probably went to tell Madam Hooch that he could see it, too, and that it wasn’t a Feint.”
Slytherin had barely won a match since Harry had become Gryffindor seeker two years ago, so it didn’t seem odd for the players to lift Romulus onto their shoulders and carry him cheerfully from the stadium.
The next day, Romulus confirmed Ron’s theory, and the three boys had a rather enjoyable talk about what a fantastic capture it was. Romulus had snatched up the Snitch when it was just passing in front of Malfoy’s face, in the stands.
“Honestly, I don’t think he saw it,” he laughed. “It stopped right in front of his nose, and he didn’t even notice!”
~*~*~
“Sir?” Romulus asked, stood at the door of Professor Snape’s office. “I wondered if I might have a word with you.”
Snape gave him an annoyed look, but dismissed the first-year Hufflepuff quivering in front of him.
“Well?” He prompted. “What do you want?”
Romulus pursed his lips. He knew Professor Snape didn’t really like him – after all, he was a traitor to Slytherin house – but he still had to make himself heard.
“I presume you were there, when I caught the snitch last week –”
“Of course I was there.”
“The thing is,” he started, then paused, and figured he should just jump straight to the point. Snape didn’t seem like the kind of person who would be kept waiting. “Flint’s a truly awful captain, sir, and the team itself is just a load of bollo- uh, I mean, bludgers. I want you to keep me in mind for Captain.”
Snape stared at him, seeming slightly confused. “I beg your pardon?”
Romulus straightened up a little. “Bletchley can’t save a single goal, the chasers all rely on the opposing keeper being knocked out before they can score anything, and Derrick and Bole are better at hitting bludgers at their own team than any other. We’ll never win the Quidditch cup in this state. We’ve been playing unfairly, and we need a new team who are well and truly whipped into shape.”
“You want to be Captain?” Snape sneered. “ You ? A third year? The son of You-Know-Who – that’s right, I know all about your sordid little family tree,” he smirked, as though he were revelling at the look on Romulus’ face. “I do wonder what the Dark Lord would say, if he were to know his son was more interested in Quidditch than in becoming a great wizard…”
“He wouldn’t say anything,” Romulus interjected angrily, “He’s dead. Either way, I don’t care what he thinks. If Slytherin house wants glory, wants to win the cup, then we need to go about it a very different way.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, in silence. When Snape finally spoke again, it was even quieter than before, as though he didn’t want to be overheard.
“If you wish to become captain, you shall present me with game plans. New manoeuvres, improved ones, a list of potential candidates – I shan’t be passing out the captaincy like chocolate at Hallow–”
Snape was cut off by Romulus dropping a brown paper folder marked ‘ Quidditch Practice ’ onto the desk in front of him. Romulus then turned on his heel and left, seeing the little first year run at full pelt down the hallway.
~*~*~
“You never!” Ron exclaimed, grinning and laughing. “Just dropped it on the desk as he was talking? Bloody brilliant!”
“Thanks,” Romulus said, hitching his bag further on his shoulder. Ron had come down to breakfast a little later than usual, as he’d overslept, and bumped into Romulus on his way through the castle. “Do you think he’ll say yes?” he asked hesitantly.
“If he’s got any sense, yeah!” Ron nodded fervently. “You’ve got a real plan for the team, you’ve told me all about it. I mean, I’d hate for Slytherin to win the Quidditch cup, but with you leading them, I could never complain.”
Romulus smiled at the floor. It felt nice to have Ron’s support, and he was thankful for Ron’s manoeuvre advice when he'd drawn up the plans. They walked into the Great Hall, and headed for the Gryffindor table together.
“Is it just me,” said Ron, leaning a little closer to Romulus, “Or is everyone staring at you?”
Romulus had noticed it as well. From the entrance hall, the students had been making a hell of a racket that breakfast. But now that Romulus was in the room, everything seemed to have hushed. He could see people whispering to each other, and as he passed a Ravenclaw sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, he distinctly heard the words “You-Know-Who’s son!”
His worst fears were confirmed when they reached Harry and Hermione, as Hermione was giving him a very sad look, as if she was very sorry that his secret had gotten out. The whispers were slowly building back up to talking, but Romulus could still hear “Slytherin heir,” and “Dark Lord’s son,” through all of it.
“But, how did they find out?” Ron whispered, sitting opposite Harry. Rom took the space next to him. “It’s not as though we’ve been blurting it all over the place.”
Romulus recalled, just the day before, the first year Hufflepuff that Snape had been berating. The first year Hufflepuff who he had then seen running away from Snape’s office as he left it. He should have known before, but in his excitement he had completely ignored this. The kid had been listening at the door.
He relayed this to the others – not including, of course, his bid to become Slytherin Captain. He wanted it to be a surprise for Harry and Hermione, but as Ron had a whole life behind him of knowing about Quidditch, he’d wanted his help.
“So he told them then,” Hermione sighed.
“Honestly, if I ever find out who the little toe-rag is…” Ron grumbled. Romulus just looked around the hall, at the students still staring at him. He looked up at the teachers’ table, too. Dumbledore was busying himself in a conversation with McGonagall. Rom guessed it was about him. Snape had the decency to look at least marginally ashamed.
Hagrid was… well, Hagrid was beaming at him. Romulus narrowed his eyes in confusion, and Hagrid mouthed the words ‘Tell you later!’
“By the way,” Ron said, piling scrambled egg onto his toast, “Did I mention that Dad can get tickets for the Quidditch World Cup?”
“There’s a World Cup?” Harry asked, adjusting his tie.
“Uh, duh!” Ron rolled his eyes. “Anyway, this summer it’s the Four Hundred and Twenty Second cup, and it’s being held here, in Britain! We could all go!”