Gift for mahaliem
Author: auroraprimavera
Recipient: mahaliem
Title: For Now
Pairing: Albus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy, hints at Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,512
Warnings: character death/hints at character death, 1st person POV, large lack of dialogue, angst, somewhat lacking of plot
Summary: Scorpius receives some unexpected news from his friend that sends him across the world, only to learn that time is indeed, precious.
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe is the property of JK Rowling and her publishers. No copyright infringement intended, no money made, no lawsuit required.
A/N: Thanks to my dearest CiCi for the beta work! mahaliem, I do hope you enjoy this. When I wrote this for you I had one idea in my head but my fingers came up with something else. Please forgive me the oddities in it. *hugs*
From the moment the muggle envelope lands in my breakfast I know that my life will never be the same. It sounds clichéd to say so, I know, but it is one of those feelings, deep down in my gut that tells me this. For a few moments all I can do is stare at the white rectangle of heavy cardstock, debating whether to open it or not. After all, it has been months, almost a year really, since I last heard from him. And even then it had been a simple I’m sorry, good bye.
“Scorpius,” my father’s seemingly bored tone draws my eyes away from my ruined plate, “either open the damned thing or throw it out, anything other than staring at it like some besotted teenage girl.” The look in his eyes tells me that the decision has been made for me, and for once I am grateful to have him control something in my life.
“Yes, Father.”
I reach out and pluck the now soggy envelope out of my eggs and hold it up by a corner, scrunching my nose in disgust. I pick up my wand and mumble a quick charm to clean the remains of my breakfast from it. Once it is clear I turn it over and examine the messy scrawl on the front. My name is scratched across the front in large messy script, with my address in smaller writing underneath. At seeing the still familiar handwriting my heart drops a little and the bit of hope I had felt on receiving this latest bit of mail leaves me. Why is his father writing to me?
I flip the envelope back over and with shaking hands tear into it. I try my best to hide my nervousness, but the effort only serves to make the trembling worse and the paper rattles as I pull the letter out. I know that I am not supposed to show outward emotions; especially not to the extent where anyone else could see, but at the moment I can’t help it. Tears start pricking at my eyes and before I can shame my self any further by running out of the room a cool hand lands on my forearm and settles me down.
I know then that even though I am behaving like some overly hormonal girl my father will support me, no matter the outcome.
I pull a surprisingly thick fold of paper out, the majority of the sheets are crumpled and the writing on them is faded. The top most sheet catches my eye, the same scribbled writing on crisp white paper. Pulling it out I set the others aside and start reading.
-----
The low hum of the engine keeps lulling me to sleep, keeping me in a half doze the entire trip. I watch the scenery fly by in a streak of green, my head bouncing lightly against the pane of the window anytime the tires of the car hit a bump on the road. I am still slightly shocked that my father agreed to Muggle means of travel, but then again, he usually gives in when there is no other option.
My stomach is in knots and, not for the first time since accepting Mr. Potter’s invitation, I wonder if I am doing the right thing.
When the scenery slows down and the car makes a sharp turn to the left I pull myself out of my frantic musings and focus on my immediate surroundings. My father is looking out the window and sneering, commenting under his breath about the shoddiness of the whole place.
Stepping out I have to agree with him. The house, while large and more than able to accommodate large quantities of people, is in apparent disrepair. The paint is peeling and the windows have a foggy dirty look to them. Most of the woodwork looks as if it were rotting or already has, shingles are missing and most of the stonework on the pathway up to the front porch is cracked, looking older than the stones of Hogwarts herself. For a moment a part of me hopes that it is all a magical illusion, but then I remember why we had traveled the way we had.
I turn to my father to find him scowling and muttering once again, this time it is something along the lines of stupid Gryffindors and their stupid houses. Before I can reprimand him and remind him of who the adult is a loud squeak catches my attention and I turn back towards the house.
Harry Potter is standing in the front doorway, a small smile on his face. He steps out and lets the door slam shut behind him. I have never seen a door like it and it causes a bit of confusion in my brain. Why would anyone have a transparent door with a front made of rickety wood and a mesh like material?
It’s odd, seeing Mr. Potter walk up to us. Despite the circumstances of our being there he is smiling widely and looked a world better than the last time I had seen him, when my mother had thrown him out of Malfoy Manor. He stops in front of us for a moment and looks closely at me and then my father. I can see his eyes linger slightly on my father and the way he flushes just slightly and then glances away brings hope that they can reconcile their differences.
Without saying a word he leans toward us and I find myself enveloped in a warm hug, pressed up against my father’s side as he is drawn in as well. The way Mr. Potter holds on to us makes me feel as if he were holding onto a lifeline and when he draws a shuddery breath in and squeezes us tighter I realize that he most likely is.
After a moment he pulls away and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m just…” He shrugs, unable to finish his sentence. I notice then that he is still leaning closely to my father, their shoulders just short of touching. The hope I had felt before flares a little as I also notice that my father, the irascible Draco Malfoy, has yet to move away.
I find courage to finally ask about my wayward friend. “And Albus?”
“Oh, right.” With another slight flush Mr. Potter turns away and cupping his hands around his mouth, he leans back a bit, slightly bending his knees, and yells out his son’s name. As he does so, his body moves forwards a bit, showing the force he put into the call. For a few seconds all that can be heard is the echo of Mr. Potter’s voice bouncing around the courtyard we are in.
Then after a few moments an answering reply comes from somewhere above us, causing us to look up. A moment later I see a familiar black head peer out at us from a corner of the roof, three stories up. I can’t make out his expression but the exclamation clearly shows that Albus is surprised. His head disappears and a few seconds later I see long legs swing over the topmost gable. Albus jumps down onto the lower second floor rooftop without a second thought. With deft movements he makes his way off the roof, jumping from one level to the other, quickly making his way down. On his last jump he moves from the last gable of the patio roof to the roof of an old pick up truck parked to the side. Once his feet hit the ground Albus jogs towards us, his confusion clearly showing.
As I watch him make his way down and then over to us, I feel my heart catch slightly in my throat. In the months that have passed by he has changed for the better. The last time I had seen him he had been sickly thin and pale, with his hair cropped short and dark bags under his eyes. Now…
I don’t think I would ever really be able to describe what seeing him after so long has done to me. I had long ago given in to the fact that maybe, just maybe, I feel a bit more for my friend than I should. Watching him at that moment, the realization is confirmed.
Albus seems to have grown a foot, obviously having received the genes for height from his mother’s side of the family. His hair is long and curls at his shoulders, coppery highlights flashing in the bright afternoon sun. But what really draws my attention is his skin color. No longer is he the pasty shade of green from before. Now his skin glows a soft golden color, making it obvious that he spends time out in the sun.
He is nothing close to being perfect or extremely good looking, that role belonged to his older brother. Yet, at that moment, he looks like a perfect Adonis, exactly what a Greek god should look like. I shamelessly check him out and wonder yet again about what he would do were I to make a move on him.
Stopping just a foot away he stares at me, barely sparing our fathers’ a glance. I have to look up to him now, his height finally surpassing mine, and I can’t help but melt inside as I see the sadness in his eyes. He reaches out and gently lays two fingers on my temple, where a scar from a childhood broom accident barely shows. The simple touch sends a spark burning down my spine and as they trail down my cheek and stop at my jaw, I have to struggle to catch my breath.
“Scorpius?” The disbelieving tone holds so much hope in it.
“It’s me Albus.”
We stare at another for a moment and just as suddenly as his own father had, Albus sweeps me up in a tight, sweaty, hug. As his arms wrap around me, so does the smell of the sea, and I immediately associate the smell with him. He clings to me and I feel a small tremor go through him. Out of the corner of my eye I see Mr. Potter lead my father away and into the house. After they are gone I tighten my own hold on Albus and rub a soothing pattern against the warm skin of his bare back.
A minute later a broken whisper makes its way into my ear. “I’ve missed you.”
“Oh Albus…”
“Don’t leave me, please…”
I hold him tighter and whisper promises, knowing that eventually I will have to break them to go back home.
-----
It’s late and I can’t fall asleep, even given the six hour time difference. My head is buzzing and my thoughts refuse to settle down. Across the room Albus is tossing in his bed, his sleep restless. I want to go to him and hold him close but fear that I may do something he wouldn’t be ready for.
I stare up at the ceiling, the thin wood panels blue from the moon light, small shimmers reflected from the ocean playing across it and making irregular patterns. I’m still very overwhelmed from the past few days, too many things having been thrown at me at once. I want to make it all right and I want Albus to know that I am here for him. But at the same time…
With a sigh I turn over and make another attempt at making myself comfortable. I still can’t get over the lack of magic here and how different it all is from England. The temptation to wave my wand and cool the air down to an acceptable temperature is great, but I know that I can’t. It would do greater harm than good.
We haven’t talked much in the past two days. We mostly spend our time sitting together on the platform built onto the roof, watching the water lap against the shore. It has been the most relaxed I have ever felt and I’m looking forward to more lazy afternoons with Albus.
I am unsure on how to handle the situation. He’s not the same boy who left England and Hogwarts a year ago, he’s changed. And even though I know that no matter what, he will always be my best friend, but I just…
I hate this helplessness I feel. In the past Albus had always been the strong one, the one that kept both our heads above water and the one who always stood up for me, always believed in me. To have the roles switched suddenly, I don’t know if I can handle it.
Another attempt to get comfortable and I’m now facing the window. The skies aren’t as clear as they are at the Manor. Father said it was due to the air being warmer, I just like to think that they are reflecting Albus’ mood.
-----
Three weeks later and I’m more at home at the Potter beach home than I have ever been in my own family home. Albus wakes up at first light and insists that I join him for early morning walks on the shore. By the time we get back inside it’s barely half past seven and we always find breakfast waiting for us on the back porch. It is what Albus calls a “good Southern breakfast” and he says this with a slight twang that I’ve noticed he’s picked up. At first it bothered me…now…now I just find it somewhat endearing.
As I nibble on the biscuits and poke half heartedly at the fried bacon, Albus wolfs down eggs and something called grits and nameless other things I haven’t brought myself to try. I don’t really care what he eats. It’s nice to see him eating again.
After breakfast we normally go down to beach and lay out in a shaded area under some overgrown brush. I always end up falling asleep and my nap lasts about an hour until Albus shakes me awake, insisting it’s time for a swim.
Our days comprise of nothing more than that. Sleeping, eating, and swimming. The first few days drove me insane; I was bored and desperate for something else to do. But little by little, with his new quiet demeanor Albus has shown me how living simply sometimes really is best.
I glance over at him, his face is tilted up towards the sun, He looks relaxed and his lips are curved into a gentle smile. We still haven’t talked about why I’m here. Albus has never brought it up and I don’t want to push him.
Suddenly he stands up and grins at me. “Race you!” And with that shout he’s off, speeding down to the rising tide. As he reaches the water he laughs happily and splashes around, kicking at the water and jumping waves. He motions for me to join him and with only a little reluctance I make my way to him.
-----
“Scorpius.”
I turn around and find myself face to face with Mr. Potter for the first time in a few days. Last I had seen him he had been hauling my very reluctant father to his boat, insisting that deep sea fishing has its merits.
“Mr. Potter?” I nod politely, my rearing kicking in and my response to an adult automatic.
“Scorpius, how many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Harry, please.” He gives me that sheepish grin he wears so well and I can see why my father fell for him years back.
“Sir, no matter how old I get, I will not be able to think of you as anything other than Mr. Potter.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
His laugh is rich and deep, a good hint at what Albus’ will be when he reaches his father’s age. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with you.” I nod and he leads us into his study, a bright room consisting of big cushiony armchairs scattered about and piles of books towering over them.
I sit down and nod to a novel he has sitting on his side table. “That’s a good book. Father’s recommendation?”
“Yeah. Draco has good taste in books, I admit. But,” he settles down in his own chair and faces me, his face serious, “that’s not why I asked you here. The thing is…”
He pauses and is silent for so long, a lost look on his face, that I decide to step in. “It’s about what you wrote in your letter, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” He leans forward, placing an elbow on the arm of the chair and rests his chin in his palm. He’s looking away from me, staring at some unseen vision on the wall.
“Sir, what I don’t understand is why you not only wrote to me, but also sent me Albus’ letters as well. There had to be a reason for why he never owled them himself.”
“The only reason he never sent them was because he was afraid you would reject him.”
“What?!”
“Scorpius…I didn’t give you a full explanation in the letter…I left a good part out and…”
“Sir?”
He leans back and runs his hands through his hair, his fingers combing through and mixing the small smatterings of grey with black. “I told you that he was sick, that we all were. What I didn’t tell you was why.” He’s nervous, I can tell, as he can’t seem to stop fidgeting. It’s the same habit Albus has.
We’re quiet for a good while as he tries to find a way to put into words what he has to tell me and I think back to what he’s said so far. What could be so bad that would make Albus think I would reject him? I think about as many Wizarding and Muggle diseases as I can, but nothing jumps out as being that horrible.
A few minutes later Mr. Potter lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “You remember why you traveled here the way you did?”
I frown. “Yes, you said it had something to do with the magic here? That’s the only reason I was able to convince father that riding five hours in a Muggle car was necessary.”
“Sounds like him,” he lips quirk slightly before straightening out again, “but I wasn’t entirely truthful. The reason you had to drive down is because this entire area is completely devoid of magic.”
“What?”
“There is no magic around us. Did you not notice the difference?”
“Well I…” I realize that I had noticed a small difference in the air around us, but at the time I had just brushed it aside with having to do with the humidity. Then I remember how I had asked my father about the stars on our first night here and I can finally place the look on his face. It was fear. “How?”
Mr. Potter shrugs and settles more deeply into his chair. “I’m not entirely sure. I believe it has something to do with the coordinates of the location and other odd things.”
“But, why? You’re a wizard and so is Albus.”
This time the smile on his face is sad and I know that had his eyes been open I would have seen pain in them. “A couple of years back, when I had first started as an Auror, Ginny worked with me. About two years in there was an investigation where we ended up as partners along with two other witches,” he pauses and although he can’t see me, I nod for him to continue. “Something happened one night on a stake out and the four of us were hit with a Dark curse. I don’t know the actual name of it and I doubt anyone else does. Unfortunately the two witches didn’t survive, having received most of the power from the curse, but Ginny and I did. We were told there were no residual effects and that it had cleared our system.”
He pauses again and this time I give him time to gather himself. I had never heard about this and I doubt Albus had known.
“To be honest we had completely forgotten about the curse and had moved on with our lives. It wasn’t until Albus started getting sick every month during your fifth year that we remembered it. Then when the entire family was ill towards the end of last year we realized we had to do something. Everyone we knew researched it and we even had a large portion of St. Mungo’s staff on the case as well, in case it turned into an epidemic.”
I have to interrupt. “But why didn’t he ever say anything? When I asked him all he would ever say was that it was nothing and you were working on it!”
“Because we were,” he opens his eyes and I’m not surprised to see the tears in them, “we thought it was nothing. When a rough description of the curse was found and we learned its use we had to pack up and go. It’s amazing that we even managed to find this place on such short notice.”
“What is it?”
Looking away he lets out another sigh. “Our magic was leaving us.”
I freeze and it isn’t until my lungs start burning that I realize I haven’t taken a breath in almost a minute. The tips of my fingers are numb from the loss of blood and I know that my face is paler than normal. I see now why Albus would fear rejection from me. Magic is, after all, what being a wizard is all about.
After blinking a few times I manage to croak out something in the form of a question and am not all too sure that he’s understood it until I hear his answer.
“All of it.”
“Gone?”
He nods and a shaking hand reaches up and brushes his tears away. “That’s why we were so sick. Magic to a Witch or Wizard is like air to a Muggle, we can’t survive without it.”
“No…” This time I feel as if my heart has turned to stone and dropped from its usual spot to some unknown cavern under me. He can’t mean that. I’m misunderstanding him is all…
“I’m sorry Scorpius,” this time when he breathes I can hear the air catch on the way and when he speaks there’s a hitch in his voice, “There’s no saying how long we have…”
“NO!” Sudden energy has me standing up and glaring down at him, “you’re lying! NO! You’re not going to die! Neither is Albus! He is not going to die!” I’m crying and I can barely see him through my wet lashes and all I want to do his hit him repeatedly for telling me this.
“I’m not lying, I would never lie about this.” He stands up and reaches out to me but I flinch back.
It’s getting harder to breathe and all I keep thinking about is how the smile on Albus’ face is supposed to reach old age with wrinkles on his face and grey hairs on his head. It’s not fair and my mind keeps going back to the past year and how far away he has been and how much time we’ve lost.
“Scorpius.” The cool tone pull me somewhat out of my hysteria and I look up to see my father frowning at me. It’s funny how he’s the taller of the two when I’m barely as tall as Mr. Potter. I see my father’s mouth forming shapes as he repeats my name but I block him out trying to make sense of the thoughts in my head. His words filter in and out, but it isn’t until he turns to talk to Mr. Potter that I actually make anything out. “…told you not to say anything Harry! Why do you think I never told him? He doesn’t…”
My eyes widen in shock and I pull further away from them. “You knew! You knew and you didn’t tell me?”
“Scorpius, please, you need to calm dow -”
“NO!” I point a shaking finger at him and step back towards the door. “Stay away from me, both of you!”
I turn and run out of the study heading towards the back of the house. Faster and faster as more thoughts crowd together in my mind. I barely register running through the back door, letting the screen door slam shut behind me, before making my way down to the beach. I trip as I try running across the soft sands of the dunes but I don’t stop. Scrabbling up with each fall I eventually find myself running into the waves, the cold water shocking my system even more and making me fall to my knees.
I want to go back to how it was before. To sunny summer days in the water and cool lazy nights on a hammock. I want this to have never happened to Albus and his family. For his mother and siblings to come back. I want him to stay with me forever. I want him with me.
I literally can not think of anything but for the memory of Albus smiling tentatively at me our first year, his small hand reaching out to me in an offer of friendship. Had I known then how big a part of my life he would be and how short a time I would have him I would have savored every moment even more.
Before my hysterics can reach true epic proportions I feel two long arms wrap around me from behind. Without thinking I twist and curl into him, clinging to him afraid that if I let go he’ll disappear. For a moment we’re quiet, holding on to the other, the sound of the waves hitting the shore pulling me down and soothing me a bit.
When he whispers in my ear about it being all right and kisses my cheek I finally break down. I sob into his shoulder, incoherent words tumbling out of my mouth as I curse the gods, his parents, and anything else I can think of.
Hours pass us by and I can do nothing more but cry and demand that he never leave me.
-----
Late morning finds us curled up on his bed, my head resting on his shoulder. He’s been talking for the past few hours, telling me what it has been like for him the past few years. It’s the most I’ve heard him say since arriving and I let him speak. I’m aware that this is his way of getting many things off his chest. I doubt he’s had anyone other than his father to speak with these last two months.
At first his voice was soft and calm as he told me how the discovery was made that to avoid being drained so quickly of magic they had to leave our world. It’s ironic to think that the one thing that could have helped them was the one thing that was making them sicker.
As he talked his voice rose and fell with his emotions. I can tell that he has been through more in this year than was possible. The worst moment was when he told me about Lily, his beautiful little sister.
I remember her from school, a bright, bubbly girl that could outwit anyone around her. She was always so quick to defend her friends and ready knock down those that thought themselves better than everyone else. I’m having a hard time imaging her plucky demeanor dimmed by this horrid curse.
I’m only thankful that she passed during the night, when they were sleeping and Albus wasn’t awake to watch her go. He was always so protective of her.
Hearing about his mother was just as hard. As a child he had been very close to Ginny Potter, happy to lend his mum a helping hand with anything. And despite what my father likes to think, I know that she was an amazing mother that adored her children to an almost unhealthy extreme.
Albus doesn’t say much about his brother, but I know its hit him as hard, if not harder. To watch his older brother wilt away in front of him couldn’t have been easy. Especially since, although he’s never admitted it, he always looked up to the older boy.
I ask questions and he answers them as best he can. He explains that they were all hit differently and that is why although he was the first to get sick he’s made it this long. When I ask about why he looks so good he only laughs and mumbles something about my checking his arse out.
I can only blush and deny having ever done so.
When he stops answering my questions I glance up to find him fast asleep, the frown he wears to bed every night that much less pronounced.
I kiss his forehead and pull the covers up over him before heading over to my own bed.
-----
Albus is lying beside me on the sand. The sun is peeking through the gaps in the brush, giving our hideaway an otherworldly feel. As I contemplate how best to ask him the thousand questions that have been running through my mind since the other night I feel him shift beside me. I glance over at him and am startled to see his face so close to mine.
“Albus?”
He smiles and my heart melts while tears prickle at my eyes. Without a word he shifts up onto his elbow and leans over me, his long hair tickling my forehead. He kisses my forehead and then my cheeks before pulling away. I stare back at him stunned and a little confused, my eyes frantically searching for a clue but finding none. He leans forward one more time, that wonderful smile teasing me still, and kisses my neck, right under my ear.
“Oh…”
This time he doesn’t pull away. Small kisses are trailed down my neck and across my jaw, sending fire racing across my skin. I’m so busy concentrating on each flutter of his lips that I jump in surprise when his hand lands on my side, his fingers gently caressing my skin. He laughs lightly and pulls away just enough so that our eyes meet once again.
“I love you Scorpius.”
I feel my eyes widen for a fraction of a second only to slam shut as his lips meet mine. I can’t help but groan at the sensation and immediately my arms wrap around him. He tastes of salt and sand, the aroma of the sea that seems to cling to him wrapping around me once again. When his tongue gently laps at my lips I open my mouth and invite him in, demanding as much of him as he’s willing to give me.
I don’t pay much mind to what all we are doing, but as hands travel across sun kissed skin and the little clothing we wear is pulled off, I can only think that this is a memory I will cherish for as long as I live.
-----
It’s been five months and I’m still here, at the beach house. I eventually apologized to Mr. Pot- Harry and came to terms with what he revealed to me that night. It was during that conversation that he insisted once again that I call him Harry. Seeing as I am getting to know him again, this time as an adult, I gave in.
I look out over the beach and smile as he and Albus run back and forth, chasing a small brown puppy. The animal had been a present from my father a few weeks back. He had surprised us all with the gesture, but I knew he had gotten Rufus - as Albus insisted on calling the poor creature - as much for himself as for anyone else.
Steps come up behind me and I turn my head slightly. As my father sits down next to me I grin at him and turn back. We’re quiet, not many words needed between us now, and we laugh loudly as Harry slips and falls onto a wet patch of sand.
It hasn’t been easy, knowing what the eventual outcome will be. But day by day is how I’m taking it and every moment I spend with Albus is a moment stored away in my heart.
I still don’t know what my father’s relationship is to Harry. They’re so understated with each other, nothing compared to what they used to be like. I like to think that behind closed doors they can make each other feel again.
“All right Scorpius?”
I turn and meet his eyes, seeing the sadness I know is mirrored in my own. I nod and close my eyes.
“For now.”
Recipient: mahaliem
Title: For Now
Pairing: Albus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy, hints at Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,512
Warnings: character death/hints at character death, 1st person POV, large lack of dialogue, angst, somewhat lacking of plot
Summary: Scorpius receives some unexpected news from his friend that sends him across the world, only to learn that time is indeed, precious.
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe is the property of JK Rowling and her publishers. No copyright infringement intended, no money made, no lawsuit required.
A/N: Thanks to my dearest CiCi for the beta work! mahaliem, I do hope you enjoy this. When I wrote this for you I had one idea in my head but my fingers came up with something else. Please forgive me the oddities in it. *hugs*
From the moment the muggle envelope lands in my breakfast I know that my life will never be the same. It sounds clichéd to say so, I know, but it is one of those feelings, deep down in my gut that tells me this. For a few moments all I can do is stare at the white rectangle of heavy cardstock, debating whether to open it or not. After all, it has been months, almost a year really, since I last heard from him. And even then it had been a simple I’m sorry, good bye.
“Scorpius,” my father’s seemingly bored tone draws my eyes away from my ruined plate, “either open the damned thing or throw it out, anything other than staring at it like some besotted teenage girl.” The look in his eyes tells me that the decision has been made for me, and for once I am grateful to have him control something in my life.
“Yes, Father.”
I reach out and pluck the now soggy envelope out of my eggs and hold it up by a corner, scrunching my nose in disgust. I pick up my wand and mumble a quick charm to clean the remains of my breakfast from it. Once it is clear I turn it over and examine the messy scrawl on the front. My name is scratched across the front in large messy script, with my address in smaller writing underneath. At seeing the still familiar handwriting my heart drops a little and the bit of hope I had felt on receiving this latest bit of mail leaves me. Why is his father writing to me?
I flip the envelope back over and with shaking hands tear into it. I try my best to hide my nervousness, but the effort only serves to make the trembling worse and the paper rattles as I pull the letter out. I know that I am not supposed to show outward emotions; especially not to the extent where anyone else could see, but at the moment I can’t help it. Tears start pricking at my eyes and before I can shame my self any further by running out of the room a cool hand lands on my forearm and settles me down.
I know then that even though I am behaving like some overly hormonal girl my father will support me, no matter the outcome.
I pull a surprisingly thick fold of paper out, the majority of the sheets are crumpled and the writing on them is faded. The top most sheet catches my eye, the same scribbled writing on crisp white paper. Pulling it out I set the others aside and start reading.
-----
The low hum of the engine keeps lulling me to sleep, keeping me in a half doze the entire trip. I watch the scenery fly by in a streak of green, my head bouncing lightly against the pane of the window anytime the tires of the car hit a bump on the road. I am still slightly shocked that my father agreed to Muggle means of travel, but then again, he usually gives in when there is no other option.
My stomach is in knots and, not for the first time since accepting Mr. Potter’s invitation, I wonder if I am doing the right thing.
When the scenery slows down and the car makes a sharp turn to the left I pull myself out of my frantic musings and focus on my immediate surroundings. My father is looking out the window and sneering, commenting under his breath about the shoddiness of the whole place.
Stepping out I have to agree with him. The house, while large and more than able to accommodate large quantities of people, is in apparent disrepair. The paint is peeling and the windows have a foggy dirty look to them. Most of the woodwork looks as if it were rotting or already has, shingles are missing and most of the stonework on the pathway up to the front porch is cracked, looking older than the stones of Hogwarts herself. For a moment a part of me hopes that it is all a magical illusion, but then I remember why we had traveled the way we had.
I turn to my father to find him scowling and muttering once again, this time it is something along the lines of stupid Gryffindors and their stupid houses. Before I can reprimand him and remind him of who the adult is a loud squeak catches my attention and I turn back towards the house.
Harry Potter is standing in the front doorway, a small smile on his face. He steps out and lets the door slam shut behind him. I have never seen a door like it and it causes a bit of confusion in my brain. Why would anyone have a transparent door with a front made of rickety wood and a mesh like material?
It’s odd, seeing Mr. Potter walk up to us. Despite the circumstances of our being there he is smiling widely and looked a world better than the last time I had seen him, when my mother had thrown him out of Malfoy Manor. He stops in front of us for a moment and looks closely at me and then my father. I can see his eyes linger slightly on my father and the way he flushes just slightly and then glances away brings hope that they can reconcile their differences.
Without saying a word he leans toward us and I find myself enveloped in a warm hug, pressed up against my father’s side as he is drawn in as well. The way Mr. Potter holds on to us makes me feel as if he were holding onto a lifeline and when he draws a shuddery breath in and squeezes us tighter I realize that he most likely is.
After a moment he pulls away and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m just…” He shrugs, unable to finish his sentence. I notice then that he is still leaning closely to my father, their shoulders just short of touching. The hope I had felt before flares a little as I also notice that my father, the irascible Draco Malfoy, has yet to move away.
I find courage to finally ask about my wayward friend. “And Albus?”
“Oh, right.” With another slight flush Mr. Potter turns away and cupping his hands around his mouth, he leans back a bit, slightly bending his knees, and yells out his son’s name. As he does so, his body moves forwards a bit, showing the force he put into the call. For a few seconds all that can be heard is the echo of Mr. Potter’s voice bouncing around the courtyard we are in.
Then after a few moments an answering reply comes from somewhere above us, causing us to look up. A moment later I see a familiar black head peer out at us from a corner of the roof, three stories up. I can’t make out his expression but the exclamation clearly shows that Albus is surprised. His head disappears and a few seconds later I see long legs swing over the topmost gable. Albus jumps down onto the lower second floor rooftop without a second thought. With deft movements he makes his way off the roof, jumping from one level to the other, quickly making his way down. On his last jump he moves from the last gable of the patio roof to the roof of an old pick up truck parked to the side. Once his feet hit the ground Albus jogs towards us, his confusion clearly showing.
As I watch him make his way down and then over to us, I feel my heart catch slightly in my throat. In the months that have passed by he has changed for the better. The last time I had seen him he had been sickly thin and pale, with his hair cropped short and dark bags under his eyes. Now…
I don’t think I would ever really be able to describe what seeing him after so long has done to me. I had long ago given in to the fact that maybe, just maybe, I feel a bit more for my friend than I should. Watching him at that moment, the realization is confirmed.
Albus seems to have grown a foot, obviously having received the genes for height from his mother’s side of the family. His hair is long and curls at his shoulders, coppery highlights flashing in the bright afternoon sun. But what really draws my attention is his skin color. No longer is he the pasty shade of green from before. Now his skin glows a soft golden color, making it obvious that he spends time out in the sun.
He is nothing close to being perfect or extremely good looking, that role belonged to his older brother. Yet, at that moment, he looks like a perfect Adonis, exactly what a Greek god should look like. I shamelessly check him out and wonder yet again about what he would do were I to make a move on him.
Stopping just a foot away he stares at me, barely sparing our fathers’ a glance. I have to look up to him now, his height finally surpassing mine, and I can’t help but melt inside as I see the sadness in his eyes. He reaches out and gently lays two fingers on my temple, where a scar from a childhood broom accident barely shows. The simple touch sends a spark burning down my spine and as they trail down my cheek and stop at my jaw, I have to struggle to catch my breath.
“Scorpius?” The disbelieving tone holds so much hope in it.
“It’s me Albus.”
We stare at another for a moment and just as suddenly as his own father had, Albus sweeps me up in a tight, sweaty, hug. As his arms wrap around me, so does the smell of the sea, and I immediately associate the smell with him. He clings to me and I feel a small tremor go through him. Out of the corner of my eye I see Mr. Potter lead my father away and into the house. After they are gone I tighten my own hold on Albus and rub a soothing pattern against the warm skin of his bare back.
A minute later a broken whisper makes its way into my ear. “I’ve missed you.”
“Oh Albus…”
“Don’t leave me, please…”
I hold him tighter and whisper promises, knowing that eventually I will have to break them to go back home.
-----
It’s late and I can’t fall asleep, even given the six hour time difference. My head is buzzing and my thoughts refuse to settle down. Across the room Albus is tossing in his bed, his sleep restless. I want to go to him and hold him close but fear that I may do something he wouldn’t be ready for.
I stare up at the ceiling, the thin wood panels blue from the moon light, small shimmers reflected from the ocean playing across it and making irregular patterns. I’m still very overwhelmed from the past few days, too many things having been thrown at me at once. I want to make it all right and I want Albus to know that I am here for him. But at the same time…
With a sigh I turn over and make another attempt at making myself comfortable. I still can’t get over the lack of magic here and how different it all is from England. The temptation to wave my wand and cool the air down to an acceptable temperature is great, but I know that I can’t. It would do greater harm than good.
We haven’t talked much in the past two days. We mostly spend our time sitting together on the platform built onto the roof, watching the water lap against the shore. It has been the most relaxed I have ever felt and I’m looking forward to more lazy afternoons with Albus.
I am unsure on how to handle the situation. He’s not the same boy who left England and Hogwarts a year ago, he’s changed. And even though I know that no matter what, he will always be my best friend, but I just…
I hate this helplessness I feel. In the past Albus had always been the strong one, the one that kept both our heads above water and the one who always stood up for me, always believed in me. To have the roles switched suddenly, I don’t know if I can handle it.
Another attempt to get comfortable and I’m now facing the window. The skies aren’t as clear as they are at the Manor. Father said it was due to the air being warmer, I just like to think that they are reflecting Albus’ mood.
-----
Three weeks later and I’m more at home at the Potter beach home than I have ever been in my own family home. Albus wakes up at first light and insists that I join him for early morning walks on the shore. By the time we get back inside it’s barely half past seven and we always find breakfast waiting for us on the back porch. It is what Albus calls a “good Southern breakfast” and he says this with a slight twang that I’ve noticed he’s picked up. At first it bothered me…now…now I just find it somewhat endearing.
As I nibble on the biscuits and poke half heartedly at the fried bacon, Albus wolfs down eggs and something called grits and nameless other things I haven’t brought myself to try. I don’t really care what he eats. It’s nice to see him eating again.
After breakfast we normally go down to beach and lay out in a shaded area under some overgrown brush. I always end up falling asleep and my nap lasts about an hour until Albus shakes me awake, insisting it’s time for a swim.
Our days comprise of nothing more than that. Sleeping, eating, and swimming. The first few days drove me insane; I was bored and desperate for something else to do. But little by little, with his new quiet demeanor Albus has shown me how living simply sometimes really is best.
I glance over at him, his face is tilted up towards the sun, He looks relaxed and his lips are curved into a gentle smile. We still haven’t talked about why I’m here. Albus has never brought it up and I don’t want to push him.
Suddenly he stands up and grins at me. “Race you!” And with that shout he’s off, speeding down to the rising tide. As he reaches the water he laughs happily and splashes around, kicking at the water and jumping waves. He motions for me to join him and with only a little reluctance I make my way to him.
-----
“Scorpius.”
I turn around and find myself face to face with Mr. Potter for the first time in a few days. Last I had seen him he had been hauling my very reluctant father to his boat, insisting that deep sea fishing has its merits.
“Mr. Potter?” I nod politely, my rearing kicking in and my response to an adult automatic.
“Scorpius, how many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Harry, please.” He gives me that sheepish grin he wears so well and I can see why my father fell for him years back.
“Sir, no matter how old I get, I will not be able to think of you as anything other than Mr. Potter.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
His laugh is rich and deep, a good hint at what Albus’ will be when he reaches his father’s age. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with you.” I nod and he leads us into his study, a bright room consisting of big cushiony armchairs scattered about and piles of books towering over them.
I sit down and nod to a novel he has sitting on his side table. “That’s a good book. Father’s recommendation?”
“Yeah. Draco has good taste in books, I admit. But,” he settles down in his own chair and faces me, his face serious, “that’s not why I asked you here. The thing is…”
He pauses and is silent for so long, a lost look on his face, that I decide to step in. “It’s about what you wrote in your letter, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” He leans forward, placing an elbow on the arm of the chair and rests his chin in his palm. He’s looking away from me, staring at some unseen vision on the wall.
“Sir, what I don’t understand is why you not only wrote to me, but also sent me Albus’ letters as well. There had to be a reason for why he never owled them himself.”
“The only reason he never sent them was because he was afraid you would reject him.”
“What?!”
“Scorpius…I didn’t give you a full explanation in the letter…I left a good part out and…”
“Sir?”
He leans back and runs his hands through his hair, his fingers combing through and mixing the small smatterings of grey with black. “I told you that he was sick, that we all were. What I didn’t tell you was why.” He’s nervous, I can tell, as he can’t seem to stop fidgeting. It’s the same habit Albus has.
We’re quiet for a good while as he tries to find a way to put into words what he has to tell me and I think back to what he’s said so far. What could be so bad that would make Albus think I would reject him? I think about as many Wizarding and Muggle diseases as I can, but nothing jumps out as being that horrible.
A few minutes later Mr. Potter lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “You remember why you traveled here the way you did?”
I frown. “Yes, you said it had something to do with the magic here? That’s the only reason I was able to convince father that riding five hours in a Muggle car was necessary.”
“Sounds like him,” he lips quirk slightly before straightening out again, “but I wasn’t entirely truthful. The reason you had to drive down is because this entire area is completely devoid of magic.”
“What?”
“There is no magic around us. Did you not notice the difference?”
“Well I…” I realize that I had noticed a small difference in the air around us, but at the time I had just brushed it aside with having to do with the humidity. Then I remember how I had asked my father about the stars on our first night here and I can finally place the look on his face. It was fear. “How?”
Mr. Potter shrugs and settles more deeply into his chair. “I’m not entirely sure. I believe it has something to do with the coordinates of the location and other odd things.”
“But, why? You’re a wizard and so is Albus.”
This time the smile on his face is sad and I know that had his eyes been open I would have seen pain in them. “A couple of years back, when I had first started as an Auror, Ginny worked with me. About two years in there was an investigation where we ended up as partners along with two other witches,” he pauses and although he can’t see me, I nod for him to continue. “Something happened one night on a stake out and the four of us were hit with a Dark curse. I don’t know the actual name of it and I doubt anyone else does. Unfortunately the two witches didn’t survive, having received most of the power from the curse, but Ginny and I did. We were told there were no residual effects and that it had cleared our system.”
He pauses again and this time I give him time to gather himself. I had never heard about this and I doubt Albus had known.
“To be honest we had completely forgotten about the curse and had moved on with our lives. It wasn’t until Albus started getting sick every month during your fifth year that we remembered it. Then when the entire family was ill towards the end of last year we realized we had to do something. Everyone we knew researched it and we even had a large portion of St. Mungo’s staff on the case as well, in case it turned into an epidemic.”
I have to interrupt. “But why didn’t he ever say anything? When I asked him all he would ever say was that it was nothing and you were working on it!”
“Because we were,” he opens his eyes and I’m not surprised to see the tears in them, “we thought it was nothing. When a rough description of the curse was found and we learned its use we had to pack up and go. It’s amazing that we even managed to find this place on such short notice.”
“What is it?”
Looking away he lets out another sigh. “Our magic was leaving us.”
I freeze and it isn’t until my lungs start burning that I realize I haven’t taken a breath in almost a minute. The tips of my fingers are numb from the loss of blood and I know that my face is paler than normal. I see now why Albus would fear rejection from me. Magic is, after all, what being a wizard is all about.
After blinking a few times I manage to croak out something in the form of a question and am not all too sure that he’s understood it until I hear his answer.
“All of it.”
“Gone?”
He nods and a shaking hand reaches up and brushes his tears away. “That’s why we were so sick. Magic to a Witch or Wizard is like air to a Muggle, we can’t survive without it.”
“No…” This time I feel as if my heart has turned to stone and dropped from its usual spot to some unknown cavern under me. He can’t mean that. I’m misunderstanding him is all…
“I’m sorry Scorpius,” this time when he breathes I can hear the air catch on the way and when he speaks there’s a hitch in his voice, “There’s no saying how long we have…”
“NO!” Sudden energy has me standing up and glaring down at him, “you’re lying! NO! You’re not going to die! Neither is Albus! He is not going to die!” I’m crying and I can barely see him through my wet lashes and all I want to do his hit him repeatedly for telling me this.
“I’m not lying, I would never lie about this.” He stands up and reaches out to me but I flinch back.
It’s getting harder to breathe and all I keep thinking about is how the smile on Albus’ face is supposed to reach old age with wrinkles on his face and grey hairs on his head. It’s not fair and my mind keeps going back to the past year and how far away he has been and how much time we’ve lost.
“Scorpius.” The cool tone pull me somewhat out of my hysteria and I look up to see my father frowning at me. It’s funny how he’s the taller of the two when I’m barely as tall as Mr. Potter. I see my father’s mouth forming shapes as he repeats my name but I block him out trying to make sense of the thoughts in my head. His words filter in and out, but it isn’t until he turns to talk to Mr. Potter that I actually make anything out. “…told you not to say anything Harry! Why do you think I never told him? He doesn’t…”
My eyes widen in shock and I pull further away from them. “You knew! You knew and you didn’t tell me?”
“Scorpius, please, you need to calm dow -”
“NO!” I point a shaking finger at him and step back towards the door. “Stay away from me, both of you!”
I turn and run out of the study heading towards the back of the house. Faster and faster as more thoughts crowd together in my mind. I barely register running through the back door, letting the screen door slam shut behind me, before making my way down to the beach. I trip as I try running across the soft sands of the dunes but I don’t stop. Scrabbling up with each fall I eventually find myself running into the waves, the cold water shocking my system even more and making me fall to my knees.
I want to go back to how it was before. To sunny summer days in the water and cool lazy nights on a hammock. I want this to have never happened to Albus and his family. For his mother and siblings to come back. I want him to stay with me forever. I want him with me.
I literally can not think of anything but for the memory of Albus smiling tentatively at me our first year, his small hand reaching out to me in an offer of friendship. Had I known then how big a part of my life he would be and how short a time I would have him I would have savored every moment even more.
Before my hysterics can reach true epic proportions I feel two long arms wrap around me from behind. Without thinking I twist and curl into him, clinging to him afraid that if I let go he’ll disappear. For a moment we’re quiet, holding on to the other, the sound of the waves hitting the shore pulling me down and soothing me a bit.
When he whispers in my ear about it being all right and kisses my cheek I finally break down. I sob into his shoulder, incoherent words tumbling out of my mouth as I curse the gods, his parents, and anything else I can think of.
Hours pass us by and I can do nothing more but cry and demand that he never leave me.
-----
Late morning finds us curled up on his bed, my head resting on his shoulder. He’s been talking for the past few hours, telling me what it has been like for him the past few years. It’s the most I’ve heard him say since arriving and I let him speak. I’m aware that this is his way of getting many things off his chest. I doubt he’s had anyone other than his father to speak with these last two months.
At first his voice was soft and calm as he told me how the discovery was made that to avoid being drained so quickly of magic they had to leave our world. It’s ironic to think that the one thing that could have helped them was the one thing that was making them sicker.
As he talked his voice rose and fell with his emotions. I can tell that he has been through more in this year than was possible. The worst moment was when he told me about Lily, his beautiful little sister.
I remember her from school, a bright, bubbly girl that could outwit anyone around her. She was always so quick to defend her friends and ready knock down those that thought themselves better than everyone else. I’m having a hard time imaging her plucky demeanor dimmed by this horrid curse.
I’m only thankful that she passed during the night, when they were sleeping and Albus wasn’t awake to watch her go. He was always so protective of her.
Hearing about his mother was just as hard. As a child he had been very close to Ginny Potter, happy to lend his mum a helping hand with anything. And despite what my father likes to think, I know that she was an amazing mother that adored her children to an almost unhealthy extreme.
Albus doesn’t say much about his brother, but I know its hit him as hard, if not harder. To watch his older brother wilt away in front of him couldn’t have been easy. Especially since, although he’s never admitted it, he always looked up to the older boy.
I ask questions and he answers them as best he can. He explains that they were all hit differently and that is why although he was the first to get sick he’s made it this long. When I ask about why he looks so good he only laughs and mumbles something about my checking his arse out.
I can only blush and deny having ever done so.
When he stops answering my questions I glance up to find him fast asleep, the frown he wears to bed every night that much less pronounced.
I kiss his forehead and pull the covers up over him before heading over to my own bed.
-----
Albus is lying beside me on the sand. The sun is peeking through the gaps in the brush, giving our hideaway an otherworldly feel. As I contemplate how best to ask him the thousand questions that have been running through my mind since the other night I feel him shift beside me. I glance over at him and am startled to see his face so close to mine.
“Albus?”
He smiles and my heart melts while tears prickle at my eyes. Without a word he shifts up onto his elbow and leans over me, his long hair tickling my forehead. He kisses my forehead and then my cheeks before pulling away. I stare back at him stunned and a little confused, my eyes frantically searching for a clue but finding none. He leans forward one more time, that wonderful smile teasing me still, and kisses my neck, right under my ear.
“Oh…”
This time he doesn’t pull away. Small kisses are trailed down my neck and across my jaw, sending fire racing across my skin. I’m so busy concentrating on each flutter of his lips that I jump in surprise when his hand lands on my side, his fingers gently caressing my skin. He laughs lightly and pulls away just enough so that our eyes meet once again.
“I love you Scorpius.”
I feel my eyes widen for a fraction of a second only to slam shut as his lips meet mine. I can’t help but groan at the sensation and immediately my arms wrap around him. He tastes of salt and sand, the aroma of the sea that seems to cling to him wrapping around me once again. When his tongue gently laps at my lips I open my mouth and invite him in, demanding as much of him as he’s willing to give me.
I don’t pay much mind to what all we are doing, but as hands travel across sun kissed skin and the little clothing we wear is pulled off, I can only think that this is a memory I will cherish for as long as I live.
-----
It’s been five months and I’m still here, at the beach house. I eventually apologized to Mr. Pot- Harry and came to terms with what he revealed to me that night. It was during that conversation that he insisted once again that I call him Harry. Seeing as I am getting to know him again, this time as an adult, I gave in.
I look out over the beach and smile as he and Albus run back and forth, chasing a small brown puppy. The animal had been a present from my father a few weeks back. He had surprised us all with the gesture, but I knew he had gotten Rufus - as Albus insisted on calling the poor creature - as much for himself as for anyone else.
Steps come up behind me and I turn my head slightly. As my father sits down next to me I grin at him and turn back. We’re quiet, not many words needed between us now, and we laugh loudly as Harry slips and falls onto a wet patch of sand.
It hasn’t been easy, knowing what the eventual outcome will be. But day by day is how I’m taking it and every moment I spend with Albus is a moment stored away in my heart.
I still don’t know what my father’s relationship is to Harry. They’re so understated with each other, nothing compared to what they used to be like. I like to think that behind closed doors they can make each other feel again.
“All right Scorpius?”
I turn and meet his eyes, seeing the sadness I know is mirrored in my own. I nod and close my eyes.
“For now.”