Guiltiness

Reunion

"How is he?" Albus asked quietly.

"He's alive, and his brain is active," Harry said all he knew.

"He will be fine?"

Harry expected this question to come and tried to have an answer prepared in advance. Now that he looked his son straight in the eyes, he couldn't lie. His silence crushed Albus. Tears appeared in his eyes.

"Dad, I have something to tell you," he whispered. It sounded serious.

Harry looked at his son questioningly. "I'm listening."

Albus took a breath, but his voice betrayed him. He couldn't get a sound out. Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "You can confide in me about anything; I won't judge you."

Albus nodded. He almost inaudibly whispered, "I... I... I pushed Scorpius, and he...."

Harry swallowed hard.

"So you threw him down the stairs?" It sounded incredibly harsh and unnecessarily loud. Harry immediately realised that he should have kept quiet.

"I didn't mean to!" cried Albus, collapsing into the chair so desperately that Harry felt the urge to hug him. But he didn't have time for that anymore. The door from the hospital room to the corridor slammed open, and Draco stood in it with a maddened expression.

"If he dies, I'll kill you!" He grabbed Albus by the throat and snarled at him violently. "I hate you; I hate the whole Potter family. You've always brought me nothing but misfortune!"

Draco slid Albus against the wall and pointed his wand at him. He was shaking and unable to utter a word, only breathing heavily, completely paralysed.

Harry preferred not to think about what curse Draco intended to cast on his son.

"That is enough! Expelliarmus!" Harry disarmed Draco with a quick strike. Draco lost his last vestiges of self-control and slumped into his chair, and Harry and Albus realised in disbelief that the strange sounds they were hearing were muffled sobs.

Draco turned his tear-soaked face to Harry for a few seconds. "What are you looking at? Get out, Potter! Get out, both of you!"

Albus hastily obeyed the prompt, slipping into Scorpius's room and quickly yelling, "Colloportus," he pointed his wand at the door, and it slammed shut behind him. He was finally with his friend.

"Hi, Scorpius. I missed you. I don't know if you can hear me now and if you are not angry with me... I am very sorry for what I did to you. Please come back to me. Please come back to me. Please."

He kissed the lying boy on the forehead and then lightly on the mouth.

"I would give anything to make you well again. I will be here with you and talk to you until you wake up. And I will never do anything to hurt you again, ever."

He took the limp white hand in his hand and pressed it to his chest.

"Can you hear my heart? It beats just for you. Listen."

Albus once read in a popular muggle science magazine, of which Draco had plenty, that unconscious people should be talked to. They called it the basal stimulation method. There is an assumption that the patient partially perceives what is happening around him. Creating a pleasant and safe environment and stimulating him with various sensory sensations is necessary. So Albus spoke to his dearest friend in a low, friendly voice, and stroked his hair gently.

"I won't let you die. I'll wait here until you wake up. Promise me you'll come back. Let me know you're here with me."

He felt like he caught a slight flutter of his eyelids.

"Okay, you're here with me," he praised Scorpius like a small child. "You're great; you know that? And I love you very much and will tell you so until you are well."