Albus (A Next Generation Harry Potter Fanfiction)

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Draco Malfoy glared at the ring on his finger he'd began to hate. His wife, his lying, Mudblood wife, sat opposite him on their grey, modern couch they'd chosen after buying their first house together, this one. The colour scheme was silvers, greys and dark blues, which he used to think brought out the supple tones of her pale skin, but now simply drowned her brown eyes into a dull, watery colour not unlike his own.

"I think we should move the court case forward, and sort the kids out," she spoke out from across the room. They'd been over this a hundred times already. Draco knew what she thought about the bloody court case. He knew what she thought about him, she'd told him that a hundred times too.

The room was tall and awkwardly silent, words stretched out on a breath of stale air they'd been breathing for way too long. Marriage for them didn't work anymore, that was the simple fact of it. For a split second his mind wandered to when he saw Potter last week in that bookshop Scorpius had insisted on going into, because he'd seen his new friend, Potter's kid, go in before. The place had stank, but Potter looked so happy to be there. Draco envied him, with his kids happily at Hogwarts, or certainly on their way, and him and his wife sat at home right now, still in the honeymoon phase.

"We'll finish the discussion later, Astoria," Draco spat. Her name tasted bitter in her mouth. "I have work to do," he lied, and stood up. His hands straightened his tight-fitting black suit that he'd worn on their first date together as he strode out of the living room, without bothering to show her out. She knew where the goddamn door was.

The large house he'd paid for would soon be empty. They were seeing the divorce lawyer later, and with Draco's money and position, he'd have them divorced in no time. His footsteps resonated over the tiles on the floors, clipping the edge of his shoes, ringing out through the walls and the tall windows.

The Dark Mark on his arm that still remained, having stayed dormant for years, suddenly twitched.

•

Harry Potter sat at his Auror's desk in the Ministry, papers stacked high above his messy black hair. His quill scratched quickly over the parchment, getting down his inventories of names and events. His owl, a brown tawny bird he hadn't much cared for like he'd cared for Hedwig, squawked unexpectedly, but Harry was so inundated with work that he ignored her.

His room had the same dark tiles as the rest of the Ministry's decor. Little windows that reminded him of some of the lookouts at Hogwarts were rattling with noise.

For a second he thought about how he'd seen Malfoy at that bookshop in the holidays. He'd been fussing over Ministry business and all the work he had, but Malfoy looked as bored as ever. Harry knew he had a lot of money inherited from his father, but was that so much money that he would never have to work again? Harry was a little jealous of that. He had security that Harry could only dream of.

And now, in the Ministry, any other job was more appealing that his one. He loved it at the best of times, but lately he'd got the feeling that some of his history was about to repeat itself.

There were problems arising.

•

"I'm telling you, I saw it just now, with my own eyes,"

"I don't believe you,"

"But Al, I'm telling you..."

"I'm telling you I don't believe you!"

Scorpius and Albus sat in the Slytherin common room. Al was actually working for once, as they'd threatened to bring his mother in to complain to her. It was so unfair on Al. Just because he'd only handed in one History of Magic essay this year, didn't mean they should make a fuss and owl his parents. It wasn't his fault History of Magic was so boring.