Fic: Hate is a Strong Word, Albus Severus (Albus Severus/Scorpius)
If anyone feels like volunteering to beta this, I will love you forever. No, really. ^^
Title: Hate Is A Strong Word, Albus Severus (1/?)
Author: faynia
Pairing: AS/S
Word Count: 3,415
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Depressed teens acting not so very depressed, overprotective fathers and one psychotic secondary character that no one will suspect.
Summary: Al Potter hates his life. He hates it so much, especially when Scorpius suddenly has to transfer to Durmstrang.
A/N: Because bryoneybrynn wanted to see the Harry and Al schmoop, and because I needed an excuse to continue with this fic. This was what my original the_ass_fest fic was going to be. Have fun!
A light breeze whistled past the open window, catching on the gossamer curtains, making them billow outwards like needy fingers toward Harry's desk. Sweet hyacinth that got carried in by the breeze teased Harry's nose. He glanced toward the mesh screen and sighed. The sound of happy laughter filtered through from the backyard where James and Lily were engaging in a bit of pick up Quidditch with Al refereeing down below, he'd been watching them earlier as they tossed the Quaffle back and forth, his chasers, having finally learned to work in tandem, were an unstoppable force.
He thought when he first agreed to work out of his home office for a few months it would mean he'd get to spend more time with his children. In some ways it had. Unlike years previous, Harry left work before sunset, and they got to eat outdoors instead of inside. James liked to tease him that he loved his office chair more than them, while Lily nodded her agreement. Albus would mulishly push various vegetables around his plate, not really looking at anyone unless forced.
Harry found himself pushing Al to engage more than he wanted to, more because he didn't like the disturbing resemblance to his own sixteen-year-old self than any actual need to have Al speak. He knew when Al had things to say there was no stopping him, but lately, he'd taken to sealing himself away in his bedroom and writing. They were letters. Harry discovered earlier that summer that Al wrote multiple letters, sometimes four a day, that he would then sneak down to the family Floo to send. It only took a tiny pinch of powder for it to work, which was why no one had caught him doing it previously. Al hadn't acted shocked or annoyed when Harry stood behind him to see him doing so, nor had his response of "They're for Scorpius" surprised Harry.
Al very rarely explained the contents of these letters, and Harry didn't ask. Whatever Al had to say to Scorpius was none of his business. Ginny wanted him to question Al, especially when Al'd come from the living room for meals practically covered head to toe in soot, but Harry wouldn't. He smiled, nodded, made a vague hand gesture, took one look at Al and left the room. If Al stayed happy, that was all Harry cared about. With James and Lily, it was easier to extract information because they never stopped giving it. They had friends over at least four times a week, and never the same one twice, and seemed to have endless stories about each of them to share at dinner the next night when the house was left to the Potter's once more. Al had Scorpius. He hoarded him, like a treasure that was too spectacular to share with anyone else, and Harry let him. He knew what it was like to want to keep your friends to yourself. Ron and Hermione were testament to that.
Teddy noticed the same time Harry did when Albus' mood wavered from content to distressed as August drew closer. It wasn't noticeable to anyone else in the household, but Harry had seen it coming, and so had Teddy.
"He's pining."
Harry had stared at Teddy for a few moments before a wry smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "You noticed too?"
Booming laughter had echoed around his cozy office. They hadn't spoken of it since, but every Sunday Teddy came home from his mediwizardry classes, their shared knowledge came to the forefront of Harry's mind.
Albus worried him. It wasn't that he didn't spend time worrying about James or Lily, but more that Albus was his, just like Lily was Ginny's and James was Teddy's. They each had one child they connected with more easily than the other. Albus had been his since he'd blinked up at him with sleepy, green eyes as an infant, clinging to his shirt with a one pudgy little fist. He loved his eldest son and his daughter, but he felt more attached to Albus, and couldn't find it in him to feel more than a tiny bit of guilt. If either of his other children noticed, they never said a word.
Harry returned his attention back to the folder before him with a bit of trepidation. This was why he was home. The case involved more paperwork than any he'd had to deal with before, and it touched closer to his home than he would have liked. It had been a long time since he'd been put in charge of mission like this one. Most had given up because the threat was confusing, unfounded, and unlikely to happen.
He hadn't agreed, neither had Ron or Kingsley. It wasn't often that the Minister sent down orders specifically to the Aurors about a case like this one. No one had gone missing, there was no immediate threat of violence, just letter after letter after letter promising retribution, but not once did they say what they wanted retribution for. Harry, frustrated with the entire thing, growled angrily at the sloppy, childish handwriting on the most recent letter.
"Damn it," Harry swore softly as he shoved the folder far from him.
"Dad?"
Spinning in his chair, Harry found himself face to face with his youngest son. Al worried his lower lip between his front teeth, and scuffed his bare foot against the carpeting. It took less than two seconds for Harry to know something was wrong. He stood up, grasped Al's shoulder, and tilted his chin upward so he could see his son's face. Green eyes were red and puffy, but dry, his lips were cracked and splitting but not yet bleeding, but it was the desolate way his eyes were lidded that forced Harry to shove Al along to the small sofa under the window in his study. Al went without protest, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the beige carpets. He didn't even make a sound when Harry tugged him down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
Harry wouldn't have gotten away with this from James, because James didn't do depressed. He did anger. He screamed, cried and tore at skin, before he'd let either Ginny or Harry get in a word edgewise, and by the time they could, James had worked his misery right out and solved his own problems. Lily would go, make a cup of hot tea and climb into bed between them, stay awake half the night, unaware that Harry and Ginny weren't sleeping either, before falling into deep sleep, crawling out of the bed by their feet early the next morning without once speaking, but whatever had bothered her would be gone by the time they would ask. Al did neither. He didn't lash out, and he didn't silently fix his problems. He bottled whatever negativity preyed on his mind, and now Harry was waiting for the meltdown.
It wouldn't take long.
He didn't push Al to speak, he didn't say much of anything, until Al made the first move. Eye contact was sparse. Al's eyes sliding over to look at Harry as if daring him to ask, and darting away as if not wanting Harry to see. They could be on that sofa for quite some time which personally, Harry enjoyed the thought of. Finally, after five minutes of quiet fidgeting and aborted motions to speak, Al curled onto the sofa, knees partially on Harry's lap and head falling to Harry's shoulder.
Rubbing his hand along Al's shoulders and neck, he frowned when his son exhaled sharply.
"Scorpius isn't-Dad-" Al's voice broke, leaving Harry no choice. He didn't think twice before pulling his almost fully grown son onto his lap. Al's fingers curled in his white collared shirt, worn more for habit these days then necessity, but he was grateful he had now. Al liked fiddling with shirt collars, it was one habit that he'd kept since infancy, and it suited them both. He rocked Albus gently to the sound of James and Lily laughing outside the window. If Al didn't calm down on his own enough to speak, Harry'd have to leave him alone.
The one thing all Potter children loved, that Harry blamed himself for, was hot chocolate. Some days it seemed to be the only thing the three of them could agree on, but it became unnecessary when Al pulled back until he was looking Harry directly in the eye.
"He's being forced to transfer."
Harry bit down his answer and let Al sort out his thoughts. It hurt to see his son so shaken by something like this, but Harry, for once, couldn't do anything to make this right.
"His mum's sending him off to Durmstrang. He's going to be-He won't be-Dad, can't you arrest her so he can stay? He doesn't even want to go! And it's Durmstrang! You like Scorpius! Why is she doing this? Why can't she just leave well enough alone? No one's saying anything to us about why he has to go, you know? And he's not even the only one leaving." Al took in a shuddering breath, before plunging forward. "I'm going to be left alone with whatever first years we get, a third year, and fifth. There's going to be less than ten of us in Slytherin house! What is going on?"
Harry's blood ran cold as he listened to his son speak. Harry had known, for quite a few months now that Pureblood parents were slowly withdrawing the children from Hogwarts to send them abroad. The Auror department hid nothing from these people at Harry's request. As often as he preached for Hogwarts unity, it wasn't time to think of it any longer. When someone was being threatened, they got help, and right at the moment the best the Ministry could do for any of the panic stricken parents they'd contacted was to get their children enrolled in the other two magical schools in Europe. It was the safest course of action.
Harry hadn't thought to have the parents tell their children. It had been unnecessary until this moment. It didn't take much effort to think back to when he'd been fifteen and sixteen. No one had told him anything either, refusing to tell him information the adults had deemed unsuitable, and it had nearly driven a wedge between Harry and most of the adult influences in his life.
He wasn't going to do that to his son. Dusting a kiss across Al's temple, Harry disentangled himself from Albus and got up off the sofa. Moving quickly, he seized the folder that had been wobbling precariously on the edge of his desk, and handed it to Albus without a word passing in between.
Al gazed hungrily at the folder, an expression that would shortly change. Careful to not jostle Al, he reclaimed his seat and waited once more.
"What?" Al's eyes widened as his sharp gaze roved over the short letter on top, fingering the sheafs of parchment beneath. "What?"
"We've been receiving them for months now," Harry explained in patient tones as Al frantically began flipping through the evidence. "Before your last term of Hogwarts let out even. We didn't want to risk causing a panic, because we were certain at the time that they," Harry tugged on one of the letters for emphasis, "would strike when everyone was at their lowest."
"There are fifteen," Al murmured, brow furrowing in thought as he sifted the thirty odd threatening letters into two piles. Harry leaned over to see what Al had meant, and sighed.
"There are. Do you think of Astoria Malfoy as a bad mother now, Al? Do you know why she and Malfoy decided to transfer Scorpius?"
"No." Al began to shake again, and it took Harry a second to realise he'd been answered, partially, and this wasn't a delayed reaction to the words on the pages. Al shifted with a kittenish noise, dragging himself back onto Harry's lap. Harry held on. He knew Al would have more questions shortly but first, he'd take all the cuddling he could get.
"Did you know?"
"Did I know what?" Harry asked, carding his fingers through Al's soft black hair.
"That Scorpius wasn't going to come back this term?" Harry's motions stopped long enough for Al to pull away with a look of intense distrust. "You did, didn't you? Why'd you lie to me?"
Harry sighed, letting Al stand. "Albus, I didn't lie to you."
"You didn't tell me the truth either!"
"You never asked," Harry pointed out, wincing the second after he said it. "Al, come sit back down."
"No! I'm not going to. Not until you tell me why you didn't say anything! Answer me!"
"Sit down, Al. If I'm going to explain, you're going to sit here and listen."
A mutinous expression appeared on Al's face, one Harry more commonly associate with James. For a second he didn't think Albus would comply. When he did, he sat as far as possible from Harry, body poised for a fight Harry wasn't going to give him.
Twisting, Harry folded his hands in his lap to stop the impulse he had to grab Albus and pull him back closer. "The reason I didn't tell you was the same reason Scorpius didn't find out until recently. We didn't want to upset either of you."
"Yeah, well, nice going, Dad. I'm rather upset. Did you miss that?"
"No."
"Then what-"
"It wasn't my place to tell you," Harry interrupted, reaching over to squeeze Al's bared knee. To Al's credit, he didn't even flinch. "You would have known at the beginning of summer, but your mother, Scorpius' mother and father, and myself decided to wait until term came closer. Al, we didn't mean to hurt either of you, you have to understand that."
"All I know," Al began. Harry surpressed a shudder at the hardness in the boy's tone. He tried to tell himself that this unflinching anger wasn't truly directed at him, but he couldn't fool himself for even a minute. "Is that you hid something from me. About me. Did you think it'd be any better if we only had a month to deal with it? He's my best friend and I-he's moving halfway across the world!"
"Bulgaria isn't that far, Al."
Al's expression darkened with irritation. His fists were clenched tightly by his sides, body swaying dangerously. Harry wasn't sure how much longer they could keep up this forced civility. He'd have to do something to diffuse the situation, and fast. "Then why won't you let me go with him!"
"Because you're my son, and I am not letting you go out there alone!"
The couch thudded as it slid back the remaining inch to the wall when Al hurtled to his feet. "But you'll let him."
"I'm not his father," Harry snapped. He felt stung, betrayed by this, but Albus was probably feeling it worse. Harry was at a loss. For the first time in years, he had no idea how to make this all right for his baby. Al's eyes glittered with barely held anger, his teeth mashing, making his jaw clench. "You're my son!"
"I ha-"
Harry was off the couch in record time, one hand clasped tightly over Al's mouth. His heart cracked as he felt Al mouth the words against Harry's sweaty palm.
"I've got something for you," Harry stated in a calm tone. "It won't make this easier now, but I know you'll put them to good use. Promise me you'll stay right here."
Al seemed to mull this over, and when he appeared to have relaxed, Harry removed his hand. "Fine, I promise."
Harry nodded, and fled his office, dogged by three words, I hate you.
When he returned, Al was curled up on the settee, knees to his chin and eyes firmly locked on the window. Harry couldn't fault him. If someone had told him he wasn't allowed to follow Ron or Hermione to a new school, he would have been livid as well. But, none of the people restraining him would have been his parents. He knew it made no difference to Albus at all, but the very idea of letting him leave the country filled Harry with cold dread.
"Albus, look at me."
"Why should I?"
"Al." Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair as he waited for Al to do something. After a moment, Harry took matters into his own hands and stationed himself at the other end of the sofa. His lips quirked into a strained smile as his son finally worked up the nerve to face him. What he saw removed any doubts he had about giving Albus the gift he went to find. Bloodshot green eyes peered up at him from beneath too long black fringe and for a moment Harry was transported back to an earlier time when James had barely left for Hogwarts.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Al muttered, voice cracking painfully as he spoke, "I didn't--I don't really mean--Don't hate me?"
Wrapping his arms around Albus' shoulders, he drew his boy against him, tucking him securely under his chin.
"I can never hate you. Understand me?" Harry tipped Albus' chin up so he was looking down into his flushed face, "Nothing you can do will change my mind either. You, James and Lily are three of the most important parts of my life"
Al bowed his head, burying his face in the warm fleece of Harry's jumper. "I didn't mean it."
"I know you didn't." Harry carded his fingers through Al's hair, wrapping an arm around his waist. "But I'd like to know what your thoughts were when you said it."
"I don't know. I guess...I don't want him gone, Dad, can't you, I dunno, convince Mr. Malfoy that you'll give Scorpius a detailed Auror unit so not even a fly can land on him?"
"Albus."
"I KNOW!" Al shouted, wrenching himself out of Harry's hold with a sudden ferocity. "I know you can't, but a bloke can wish, can't he?"
Silence fell after the last comment while Harry nodded in agreement. "I can't make this right for you, Al, not in the way you want." And he knew Albus had no idea how much it pained him to admit that. Britain was no longer safe. All the hard work the Ministry had done to bring stability back had been shattered, and he couldn't fix any of it. "I can make it easier though. I didn't get up and leave just because you were angry."
"Then why--"
"Hold out your hand."
Al gazed at his skeptically, green eyes flashing with uncertainty, but slowly the sixteen-year-old held out his hand. Harry clasped it in his own, palming off the round disk in his hand. He squeezed their hands together over the gift, catching Al's eyes and holding.
"I need you to promise me that you'll never let these fall into the wrong hands. Got me?"
A slight crease appeared above Al's brow as he scanned Harry's face. Harry's lips twitched into a hesitant smile, that blossomed fully when Al turned his attention back down to their clasped hands. "What are they?"
"Mirrors."
"What?" Al's tone fell flat as he tugged his hand away from Harry taking the mirror with him. Harry sat back, waiting for the inevitable outrage at such a lame gift, but it never came. Instead he got confusion, which Harry felt he could only deal with in one way. Al turned the small mirror over and over in his hands, squinting to read the scratched inscription on the back. "No," he breathed, eyes widening.
Harry leaned back on the leather sofa, the seat crinkling beneath him as he shifted. "Yes."
"But they're broken. You said you broke yours! I don't-"
Laughing lightly, Harry withdrew the other mirror from his trouser pocket and held it out as well. "It isn't that hard to get these things fixed."
Al's cheeks flamed as he set the mirrors down on the sofa between them. "How do they work then?"
"I've got them charmed to respond to simple instructions," Harry explained, running his finger around the framed edge of the pocket mirror. "Simply say 'off' or 'on' to--"
"Turn them off and on, yeah I get it," Al finished. Harry leaned over and kissed the boy's temple fiercely.
"I love you, Albus. I know this won't make you feel better, but, well, it should help, just a little. It's certainly faster than owl post."
Al turned and threw his arms around Harry's shoulders, hugging him hurriedly before leaping off the sofa. "I've got to show these to Scorpius he'll flip...Dad?"
Harry took off his glasses and rubbed them with his shirt. He kept one eye on Albus as he smiled lazily. For the first time since Albus had entered his office, Harry felt his heart lift. "Yeah?"
"Love you."
Snorting, Harry shooed him off. "Go show Scorpius, Al."
Title: Hate Is A Strong Word, Albus Severus (1/?)
Author: faynia
Pairing: AS/S
Word Count: 3,415
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Depressed teens acting not so very depressed, overprotective fathers and one psychotic secondary character that no one will suspect.
Summary: Al Potter hates his life. He hates it so much, especially when Scorpius suddenly has to transfer to Durmstrang.
A/N: Because bryoneybrynn wanted to see the Harry and Al schmoop, and because I needed an excuse to continue with this fic. This was what my original the_ass_fest fic was going to be. Have fun!
A light breeze whistled past the open window, catching on the gossamer curtains, making them billow outwards like needy fingers toward Harry's desk. Sweet hyacinth that got carried in by the breeze teased Harry's nose. He glanced toward the mesh screen and sighed. The sound of happy laughter filtered through from the backyard where James and Lily were engaging in a bit of pick up Quidditch with Al refereeing down below, he'd been watching them earlier as they tossed the Quaffle back and forth, his chasers, having finally learned to work in tandem, were an unstoppable force.
He thought when he first agreed to work out of his home office for a few months it would mean he'd get to spend more time with his children. In some ways it had. Unlike years previous, Harry left work before sunset, and they got to eat outdoors instead of inside. James liked to tease him that he loved his office chair more than them, while Lily nodded her agreement. Albus would mulishly push various vegetables around his plate, not really looking at anyone unless forced.
Harry found himself pushing Al to engage more than he wanted to, more because he didn't like the disturbing resemblance to his own sixteen-year-old self than any actual need to have Al speak. He knew when Al had things to say there was no stopping him, but lately, he'd taken to sealing himself away in his bedroom and writing. They were letters. Harry discovered earlier that summer that Al wrote multiple letters, sometimes four a day, that he would then sneak down to the family Floo to send. It only took a tiny pinch of powder for it to work, which was why no one had caught him doing it previously. Al hadn't acted shocked or annoyed when Harry stood behind him to see him doing so, nor had his response of "They're for Scorpius" surprised Harry.
Al very rarely explained the contents of these letters, and Harry didn't ask. Whatever Al had to say to Scorpius was none of his business. Ginny wanted him to question Al, especially when Al'd come from the living room for meals practically covered head to toe in soot, but Harry wouldn't. He smiled, nodded, made a vague hand gesture, took one look at Al and left the room. If Al stayed happy, that was all Harry cared about. With James and Lily, it was easier to extract information because they never stopped giving it. They had friends over at least four times a week, and never the same one twice, and seemed to have endless stories about each of them to share at dinner the next night when the house was left to the Potter's once more. Al had Scorpius. He hoarded him, like a treasure that was too spectacular to share with anyone else, and Harry let him. He knew what it was like to want to keep your friends to yourself. Ron and Hermione were testament to that.
Teddy noticed the same time Harry did when Albus' mood wavered from content to distressed as August drew closer. It wasn't noticeable to anyone else in the household, but Harry had seen it coming, and so had Teddy.
"He's pining."
Harry had stared at Teddy for a few moments before a wry smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "You noticed too?"
Booming laughter had echoed around his cozy office. They hadn't spoken of it since, but every Sunday Teddy came home from his mediwizardry classes, their shared knowledge came to the forefront of Harry's mind.
Albus worried him. It wasn't that he didn't spend time worrying about James or Lily, but more that Albus was his, just like Lily was Ginny's and James was Teddy's. They each had one child they connected with more easily than the other. Albus had been his since he'd blinked up at him with sleepy, green eyes as an infant, clinging to his shirt with a one pudgy little fist. He loved his eldest son and his daughter, but he felt more attached to Albus, and couldn't find it in him to feel more than a tiny bit of guilt. If either of his other children noticed, they never said a word.
Harry returned his attention back to the folder before him with a bit of trepidation. This was why he was home. The case involved more paperwork than any he'd had to deal with before, and it touched closer to his home than he would have liked. It had been a long time since he'd been put in charge of mission like this one. Most had given up because the threat was confusing, unfounded, and unlikely to happen.
He hadn't agreed, neither had Ron or Kingsley. It wasn't often that the Minister sent down orders specifically to the Aurors about a case like this one. No one had gone missing, there was no immediate threat of violence, just letter after letter after letter promising retribution, but not once did they say what they wanted retribution for. Harry, frustrated with the entire thing, growled angrily at the sloppy, childish handwriting on the most recent letter.
"Damn it," Harry swore softly as he shoved the folder far from him.
"Dad?"
Spinning in his chair, Harry found himself face to face with his youngest son. Al worried his lower lip between his front teeth, and scuffed his bare foot against the carpeting. It took less than two seconds for Harry to know something was wrong. He stood up, grasped Al's shoulder, and tilted his chin upward so he could see his son's face. Green eyes were red and puffy, but dry, his lips were cracked and splitting but not yet bleeding, but it was the desolate way his eyes were lidded that forced Harry to shove Al along to the small sofa under the window in his study. Al went without protest, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the beige carpets. He didn't even make a sound when Harry tugged him down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
Harry wouldn't have gotten away with this from James, because James didn't do depressed. He did anger. He screamed, cried and tore at skin, before he'd let either Ginny or Harry get in a word edgewise, and by the time they could, James had worked his misery right out and solved his own problems. Lily would go, make a cup of hot tea and climb into bed between them, stay awake half the night, unaware that Harry and Ginny weren't sleeping either, before falling into deep sleep, crawling out of the bed by their feet early the next morning without once speaking, but whatever had bothered her would be gone by the time they would ask. Al did neither. He didn't lash out, and he didn't silently fix his problems. He bottled whatever negativity preyed on his mind, and now Harry was waiting for the meltdown.
It wouldn't take long.
He didn't push Al to speak, he didn't say much of anything, until Al made the first move. Eye contact was sparse. Al's eyes sliding over to look at Harry as if daring him to ask, and darting away as if not wanting Harry to see. They could be on that sofa for quite some time which personally, Harry enjoyed the thought of. Finally, after five minutes of quiet fidgeting and aborted motions to speak, Al curled onto the sofa, knees partially on Harry's lap and head falling to Harry's shoulder.
Rubbing his hand along Al's shoulders and neck, he frowned when his son exhaled sharply.
"Scorpius isn't-Dad-" Al's voice broke, leaving Harry no choice. He didn't think twice before pulling his almost fully grown son onto his lap. Al's fingers curled in his white collared shirt, worn more for habit these days then necessity, but he was grateful he had now. Al liked fiddling with shirt collars, it was one habit that he'd kept since infancy, and it suited them both. He rocked Albus gently to the sound of James and Lily laughing outside the window. If Al didn't calm down on his own enough to speak, Harry'd have to leave him alone.
The one thing all Potter children loved, that Harry blamed himself for, was hot chocolate. Some days it seemed to be the only thing the three of them could agree on, but it became unnecessary when Al pulled back until he was looking Harry directly in the eye.
"He's being forced to transfer."
Harry bit down his answer and let Al sort out his thoughts. It hurt to see his son so shaken by something like this, but Harry, for once, couldn't do anything to make this right.
"His mum's sending him off to Durmstrang. He's going to be-He won't be-Dad, can't you arrest her so he can stay? He doesn't even want to go! And it's Durmstrang! You like Scorpius! Why is she doing this? Why can't she just leave well enough alone? No one's saying anything to us about why he has to go, you know? And he's not even the only one leaving." Al took in a shuddering breath, before plunging forward. "I'm going to be left alone with whatever first years we get, a third year, and fifth. There's going to be less than ten of us in Slytherin house! What is going on?"
Harry's blood ran cold as he listened to his son speak. Harry had known, for quite a few months now that Pureblood parents were slowly withdrawing the children from Hogwarts to send them abroad. The Auror department hid nothing from these people at Harry's request. As often as he preached for Hogwarts unity, it wasn't time to think of it any longer. When someone was being threatened, they got help, and right at the moment the best the Ministry could do for any of the panic stricken parents they'd contacted was to get their children enrolled in the other two magical schools in Europe. It was the safest course of action.
Harry hadn't thought to have the parents tell their children. It had been unnecessary until this moment. It didn't take much effort to think back to when he'd been fifteen and sixteen. No one had told him anything either, refusing to tell him information the adults had deemed unsuitable, and it had nearly driven a wedge between Harry and most of the adult influences in his life.
He wasn't going to do that to his son. Dusting a kiss across Al's temple, Harry disentangled himself from Albus and got up off the sofa. Moving quickly, he seized the folder that had been wobbling precariously on the edge of his desk, and handed it to Albus without a word passing in between.
Al gazed hungrily at the folder, an expression that would shortly change. Careful to not jostle Al, he reclaimed his seat and waited once more.
"What?" Al's eyes widened as his sharp gaze roved over the short letter on top, fingering the sheafs of parchment beneath. "What?"
"We've been receiving them for months now," Harry explained in patient tones as Al frantically began flipping through the evidence. "Before your last term of Hogwarts let out even. We didn't want to risk causing a panic, because we were certain at the time that they," Harry tugged on one of the letters for emphasis, "would strike when everyone was at their lowest."
"There are fifteen," Al murmured, brow furrowing in thought as he sifted the thirty odd threatening letters into two piles. Harry leaned over to see what Al had meant, and sighed.
"There are. Do you think of Astoria Malfoy as a bad mother now, Al? Do you know why she and Malfoy decided to transfer Scorpius?"
"No." Al began to shake again, and it took Harry a second to realise he'd been answered, partially, and this wasn't a delayed reaction to the words on the pages. Al shifted with a kittenish noise, dragging himself back onto Harry's lap. Harry held on. He knew Al would have more questions shortly but first, he'd take all the cuddling he could get.
"Did you know?"
"Did I know what?" Harry asked, carding his fingers through Al's soft black hair.
"That Scorpius wasn't going to come back this term?" Harry's motions stopped long enough for Al to pull away with a look of intense distrust. "You did, didn't you? Why'd you lie to me?"
Harry sighed, letting Al stand. "Albus, I didn't lie to you."
"You didn't tell me the truth either!"
"You never asked," Harry pointed out, wincing the second after he said it. "Al, come sit back down."
"No! I'm not going to. Not until you tell me why you didn't say anything! Answer me!"
"Sit down, Al. If I'm going to explain, you're going to sit here and listen."
A mutinous expression appeared on Al's face, one Harry more commonly associate with James. For a second he didn't think Albus would comply. When he did, he sat as far as possible from Harry, body poised for a fight Harry wasn't going to give him.
Twisting, Harry folded his hands in his lap to stop the impulse he had to grab Albus and pull him back closer. "The reason I didn't tell you was the same reason Scorpius didn't find out until recently. We didn't want to upset either of you."
"Yeah, well, nice going, Dad. I'm rather upset. Did you miss that?"
"No."
"Then what-"
"It wasn't my place to tell you," Harry interrupted, reaching over to squeeze Al's bared knee. To Al's credit, he didn't even flinch. "You would have known at the beginning of summer, but your mother, Scorpius' mother and father, and myself decided to wait until term came closer. Al, we didn't mean to hurt either of you, you have to understand that."
"All I know," Al began. Harry surpressed a shudder at the hardness in the boy's tone. He tried to tell himself that this unflinching anger wasn't truly directed at him, but he couldn't fool himself for even a minute. "Is that you hid something from me. About me. Did you think it'd be any better if we only had a month to deal with it? He's my best friend and I-he's moving halfway across the world!"
"Bulgaria isn't that far, Al."
Al's expression darkened with irritation. His fists were clenched tightly by his sides, body swaying dangerously. Harry wasn't sure how much longer they could keep up this forced civility. He'd have to do something to diffuse the situation, and fast. "Then why won't you let me go with him!"
"Because you're my son, and I am not letting you go out there alone!"
The couch thudded as it slid back the remaining inch to the wall when Al hurtled to his feet. "But you'll let him."
"I'm not his father," Harry snapped. He felt stung, betrayed by this, but Albus was probably feeling it worse. Harry was at a loss. For the first time in years, he had no idea how to make this all right for his baby. Al's eyes glittered with barely held anger, his teeth mashing, making his jaw clench. "You're my son!"
"I ha-"
Harry was off the couch in record time, one hand clasped tightly over Al's mouth. His heart cracked as he felt Al mouth the words against Harry's sweaty palm.
"I've got something for you," Harry stated in a calm tone. "It won't make this easier now, but I know you'll put them to good use. Promise me you'll stay right here."
Al seemed to mull this over, and when he appeared to have relaxed, Harry removed his hand. "Fine, I promise."
Harry nodded, and fled his office, dogged by three words, I hate you.
When he returned, Al was curled up on the settee, knees to his chin and eyes firmly locked on the window. Harry couldn't fault him. If someone had told him he wasn't allowed to follow Ron or Hermione to a new school, he would have been livid as well. But, none of the people restraining him would have been his parents. He knew it made no difference to Albus at all, but the very idea of letting him leave the country filled Harry with cold dread.
"Albus, look at me."
"Why should I?"
"Al." Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair as he waited for Al to do something. After a moment, Harry took matters into his own hands and stationed himself at the other end of the sofa. His lips quirked into a strained smile as his son finally worked up the nerve to face him. What he saw removed any doubts he had about giving Albus the gift he went to find. Bloodshot green eyes peered up at him from beneath too long black fringe and for a moment Harry was transported back to an earlier time when James had barely left for Hogwarts.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Al muttered, voice cracking painfully as he spoke, "I didn't--I don't really mean--Don't hate me?"
Wrapping his arms around Albus' shoulders, he drew his boy against him, tucking him securely under his chin.
"I can never hate you. Understand me?" Harry tipped Albus' chin up so he was looking down into his flushed face, "Nothing you can do will change my mind either. You, James and Lily are three of the most important parts of my life"
Al bowed his head, burying his face in the warm fleece of Harry's jumper. "I didn't mean it."
"I know you didn't." Harry carded his fingers through Al's hair, wrapping an arm around his waist. "But I'd like to know what your thoughts were when you said it."
"I don't know. I guess...I don't want him gone, Dad, can't you, I dunno, convince Mr. Malfoy that you'll give Scorpius a detailed Auror unit so not even a fly can land on him?"
"Albus."
"I KNOW!" Al shouted, wrenching himself out of Harry's hold with a sudden ferocity. "I know you can't, but a bloke can wish, can't he?"
Silence fell after the last comment while Harry nodded in agreement. "I can't make this right for you, Al, not in the way you want." And he knew Albus had no idea how much it pained him to admit that. Britain was no longer safe. All the hard work the Ministry had done to bring stability back had been shattered, and he couldn't fix any of it. "I can make it easier though. I didn't get up and leave just because you were angry."
"Then why--"
"Hold out your hand."
Al gazed at his skeptically, green eyes flashing with uncertainty, but slowly the sixteen-year-old held out his hand. Harry clasped it in his own, palming off the round disk in his hand. He squeezed their hands together over the gift, catching Al's eyes and holding.
"I need you to promise me that you'll never let these fall into the wrong hands. Got me?"
A slight crease appeared above Al's brow as he scanned Harry's face. Harry's lips twitched into a hesitant smile, that blossomed fully when Al turned his attention back down to their clasped hands. "What are they?"
"Mirrors."
"What?" Al's tone fell flat as he tugged his hand away from Harry taking the mirror with him. Harry sat back, waiting for the inevitable outrage at such a lame gift, but it never came. Instead he got confusion, which Harry felt he could only deal with in one way. Al turned the small mirror over and over in his hands, squinting to read the scratched inscription on the back. "No," he breathed, eyes widening.
Harry leaned back on the leather sofa, the seat crinkling beneath him as he shifted. "Yes."
"But they're broken. You said you broke yours! I don't-"
Laughing lightly, Harry withdrew the other mirror from his trouser pocket and held it out as well. "It isn't that hard to get these things fixed."
Al's cheeks flamed as he set the mirrors down on the sofa between them. "How do they work then?"
"I've got them charmed to respond to simple instructions," Harry explained, running his finger around the framed edge of the pocket mirror. "Simply say 'off' or 'on' to--"
"Turn them off and on, yeah I get it," Al finished. Harry leaned over and kissed the boy's temple fiercely.
"I love you, Albus. I know this won't make you feel better, but, well, it should help, just a little. It's certainly faster than owl post."
Al turned and threw his arms around Harry's shoulders, hugging him hurriedly before leaping off the sofa. "I've got to show these to Scorpius he'll flip...Dad?"
Harry took off his glasses and rubbed them with his shirt. He kept one eye on Albus as he smiled lazily. For the first time since Albus had entered his office, Harry felt his heart lift. "Yeah?"
"Love you."
Snorting, Harry shooed him off. "Go show Scorpius, Al."