Cursed Love || A Scorbus Story

Twelve: In Which Two Boys are Trapped

Albus didn't know what the date was or where they were, just that it was a train station and that Scorpius was doing his best to remain calm in their situation. Honestly, he was doing much better than Albus would have imagined. Granted, Scorpius was rocking back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"One of us should talk to him," Albus pointed out, jabbing his thumb in the direction of a stationmaster. "Don't you think?"

Scorpius let out a high pitched, hysterical laugh. "Oh, yes. Hello, Mr Stationmaster, Mr Muggle who knows nothing of Time-Turners." His voice was squeaking, not his usual tone at all. "Quick question: did you see a flying which passing here? And, by the way, what year is it?"

Albus frowned. "Dad's going to think I did this on purpose."

The blonde boy turned to face Albus slowly, his lips curling into a tight smile. "Really, Albus? Really?"

"What?"

"We're lost in time, you jackarse! And you're worrying about what your dad is going to think?!" Scorpius shouted before Albus could quiet him, drawing a few looks from several people around them.

"Dad's pretty complicated."

Scoffing, Scorpius said bluntly, "And you're not? Not to question your taste in women, Albus, but you. . .well, you fancied a woman who tried to kill us.”

Looking at his scruffed trainers, Albus felt his chest crumble. He did admit that he fancied Delphi, how she paid attention to him, how she had been so kind to him, and the way she never compared him to Harry Potter. . .he had been vulnerable enough to believe her words.

Scorpius put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a good squeeze as he said softly, "I'm sorry, Albus. I know she---she preyed on you for how you were feeling about your father."

"It's okay," he muttered, brushing Scorpius' hand off his shoulder. "I'm sorry too. If I never wrote to her we wouldn't be in this mess."

He turned away, not looking at Scorpius' face as he wiped away a few stray tears. There was a condensed, dark feeling in Albus' chest as he took a breath, a newspaper bin catching his eye.

Curiously, he made his way towards it, followed closely by Scorpius, who kept making a guttural sound in the back of his throat. Albus usually heard him do that whenever he was stressed. Albus reached down, grabbing Scorpius' hand, feeling that it was quite clammy and warm.

Heart hammering, Scorpius glanced at Albus, his unoccupied hand trembling as he straightened his glasses. Scorpius knew his hands were sweating profusely due to his high level of fear. It was possible he even smelled of sweat as well. It surely wasn't pleasant, having his sweaty as all hell hand in Albus', thinking to himself, He's going to find me disgusting.

On the contrary, Albus didn't even seem to mind. He was more intent on getting one of the newspapers out of the bin. Scorpius sucked in a breath when he saw the date. October 30th, 1981. . .

"Is she. . .?" Scorpius whispered, his entire body trembling. "She's not trying to complete her prophecy, she's trying to prevent the big one."

"The big one?" Albus repeated, frowning at the paper.

Scorpius gulped. "She's going to kill the baby Harry Potter before Voldemort can. She's trying to prevent Voldemort from dying the first time he should have." His voice shook but his feet remained firm, eyes boring into Albus'. "She's trying to end this here."

Albus squeezed his hand, nodding once. "Then we'll just have to stop her before she does, right, Scorp?"

Despite the circumstances, Scorpius felt his happiness at the familiar nickname. It comforted him now, as he told himself that he was brave, like a Gryffindor. Brave and bold, brave and bold. "Let's get that bitch," he said to Albus, grinning.