Harry Potter One Shots

The Last

A boy weighed down by expectation, scared to be silver and green.

A girl with a brain as bright as her mother's and eyes as blue as her father's.

A boy whose family is not blood but might as well be, whose love for a girl is much more constant than the way he looks.

A girl with hair as fiery as her personality, still young, clinging to her father's arm.

A boy left behind, with only a flower to keep him company.

A boy hiding behind mischief and tricks, who loves his family more than anything but teases his little brother who is so much kinder, smarter and braver than he will ever be.

And a boy who will never fit in, who will be shunned because of his father's actions, because of his name, only 11 years old but with as much confidence as there is colour in his pale skin - none.

Albus Severus Potter, Rose Granger-Weasley, Teddy Remus Lupin, Lily Luna Potter, Hugo Granger-Weasley, James Sirius Potter and Scorpius Malfoy. The children of heroes - except for the last. Part of a family so large, so full of love, they know they are never alone. Except for the last. Their parents are scarred but love them so unconditionally that they are safe. Except for the last, who, yes, is loved very much by his mother and father, but will always carry the pain they feel.

Scorpius Malfoy will always be stained by his name, like an old dress or an art room floor. But he is more than his name. And maybe he doesn't need to fit in.

He will have friends. He will have Rose, a girl with eyes like skies and a wit as sharp as a knife, and his feelings for her will be confusing. He will have Albus, a boy who is silver and green just like him, and his feelings for Rose will fade because suddenly, he sees Albus in a different way. And he will have Teddy, Lily, Hugo and James as well, and their whole family, and though he won't fit in, he will belong.

Scorpius Malfoy is the last. But he is loved.

***

The scarlet train is cloaked by the smoke billowing from its engine. It has faded over time, but the stories that took place within it are still strong.

Scorpius is the last to board the train on September the first, the busiest day of the year for this train. He is small and pale, and huddled into his dark cloak, his face a mask of fear. The train puffs sympathetically as he takes a seat in an empty compartment and slides the door closed with trembling fingers.

Further up the train, Albus and Rose are standing in the crowded walkway, trying desperately to find a compartment. The train sends a rumble rolling under their feet and makes the light in Scorpius's compartment flicker and show them his silhouette, telling them that down the corridor there is a boy all alone.

Scorpius stands up as they knock on the door and stiffens apprehensively as they slide it open and step inside.

"Hi, I'm Rose," a girl drops down in the seat beside Scorpius.

"And I'm Albus. Do you mind if we sit here?" a boy says, looking as anxious as Scorpius who is seated opposite him.

"N-no that's fine," Scorpius stutters, twisting a silver ring stamped with a capital M around his finger; a nervous habit. "I-I'm Scorpius."

They must know he is a Malfoy. His birth was well publicised, much to his parents despair. But they only smile at him, and so he smiles back and sits up a little straighter, and as the train snakes along the rails towards Hogwarts, anyone watching would swear its brilliant red paint got a little brighter.

***

"He'll be all right," Ginny murmured to her husband, who was staring at the train as it grew smaller and smaller until it was just a red dot in the distance, like a spot of blood against the horizon.

Harry reached for her hand and entwined their fingers, his expression vague. Though she knew it wasn't possible, his eyes, which had once been as dark as emeralds, seemed to be paler these days, as if the death and trauma he had faced had leached some of the colour from them, leaving them cloudy.

"Will he be, though? What if he is in Slytherin?"

"Will it make a difference?" Ginny asked in surprise.

"No, but, well, Vol- You-Know-Who," Ginny still hadn't gotten used to him not saying the actual name anymore, "was a Slytherin."

"You don't say," Ginny said drily, not liking where this was going.

"I just-" Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know Al's nothing like that but I still worry."

Ginny squeezed his hand and pushed down the anger rising up in her. Harry had every reason to dislike Slytherin house.

"Mummy, why do James and Albus have to gooooo," Lily wailed, extending her arms to her mother who lifted her daughter up and kissed her cheek.

"They'll be back soon, sweetheart. You won't even have time to miss them."

"You'll be glad they're gone, Lils, your brothers are a handful," Harry said, putting an arm around his wife and daughter.

"Harry, Ron and I were thinking of taking Hugo into Hogsmeade to get him something from Honeydukes since he's so upset Rose is leaving. Do you, Ginny and Lily want to join us?" Hermione asked, walking over with her husband and son in tow.

"That sounds great, 'Mione," Harry said with a faint smile.

"Are you okay, mate?" Ron asked once the two families were standing beside their cars.

Harry sighed, his hand resting on the door of his car. Ginny was already in the driver's seat, Lily strapped in the back, sobbing quietly to herself.

"Not really." His voice was quiet, and Ron's face dropped.

"You know, I think it would be a good idea to talk to that therapist Hermione suggested," the freckled man said with a reassuring smile.

"She mentioned that years ago," Harry said dismissively.

"Well find a new one then. You've got to do something, Harry, it's not getting any better."

"It's getting a little better," Harry said defensively. "I'm sleeping at least five hours a night."

Ron shook his head. "Harry, c'mon. It's okay to ask for help. From someone who actually knows what they're talking about, not just from 'Mione and I - though you know we'll always be here for you.

Harry looked pained as he said, "Fine. I'll do it. Can you ask Hermione to book me an appointment for sometime this week? I don't think I can do it myself."

Ron grasped Harry's hand momentarily and nodded.

"You're doing the right thing, mate."

The right thing. Wasn't that what Harry had always done? No matter how hard it was, no matter how much it hurt, he'd always done what was right. This time it would be hard, but maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt.

A/N

This is very different to the rest of my one shots, so let me know what you think.

Love, 

Cate xx