Harry Potter One Shots

The Quiet - Part One: That Love

Scorpius is quiet. He is not the rambunctious, dramatic boy he's always been. Instead he is still and silent, encased in the black coffin and hidden away from the world.

People file into the building the ceremony is to be held in; Malfoy Manor. Scorpius's house.

He hated this house, Albus thinks as he lets his mother lead him inside.

They take seats in the back garden, facing the small platform that has been set up for people to give speeches from. Albus will not be giving a speech. Draco wouldn't allow it. He is surprised he even let him attend the funeral. He expects his father had a word with Mr Malfoy.

The ceremony begins, and Albus listens as various family members get up and talk of how lovely a boy Scorpius was, how sweet and polite. Bullshit, Albus thinks. The only person Scorpius was ever sweet to was the small redheaded girl seated beside Albus, and the only people he showed respect and politeness to were Albus's own parents.

"Albus?" She whispers tentatively. Lily, his younger sister, is only fourteen; too young for a funeral like this. "Are you..."

Albus nods. She isn't asking whether he is okay. She is asking whether he will be able to make it through this. And he will. He owes Scorpius this much.

Hidden behind the formal, untruthful speeches, the chairs arranged in perfect rows, the pressed black suits of Scorpius's father and grandfather, attire expected to be worn at any funeral, is the true nature of Scorpius's death. Because, like his mother before him, Scorpius had killed himself. Albus had known about Scorpius's depression before they had started dating, when they were just two boys, thrown together by fate, who were the best sort of friends. He had watched Scorpius swallow endless medication, all supposed to make a difference, but it never seemed to. All those nights Scorpius had broken down, crying or screaming or in so much pain he couldn't walk, Albus had held him and stayed with him. And when Scorpius hurt himself, Albus was the only person who noticed, because Scorpius was good at hiding the hurt, whether it be internal or not. When he realised just how bad it was getting, Albus had written to Scorpius's parents. Endless letters, endless pleading, endless fear. They had never replied.

Scorpius had loved Albus. Fiercely, completely, with all the abandon and recklessness that made him the wild boy he was. It wasn't a selfish sort of love. Though it was undeniable that Scorpius needed Albus more seriously than Albus needed him, or at least for different reasons, he had always supported Albus through any hardships, never once making it seem like Albus's problems were any lesser than his. Maybe Albus had fooled himself into thinking that that love was enough to make Scorpius hold on.