Who Will Stop the Rain

Father and Son

"How's school?" asked Draco interestedly.

Scorpius shrugged, "S'fine."

An awkward silence fell between them as they walked slowly up Diagon Alley. The day was overcast, threatening another downpour and the weather perfectly reflected the mood between father and son. Despite Draco's best efforts to maintain a close relationship with Scorpius, he had felt increasingly distant from him. Scorpius had struggled not only with the loss of his brother but the break-up of his family, and although he'd never expressly said it, Draco was sure that his youngest son blamed him for everything that had happened (not that he was inclined to disagree with that assessment). He only wished he knew what to say or do to make Scorpius open up to him, but the more that he tried, the further he seemed to push him away. Draco nodded solemnly.

"Good, good...how's your mother?" he asked. Scorpius looked hard at his father.

"She still cries a lot, but less so now that Mr. Shafiq started visiting."

"Oh, right," Draco muttered, his stomach twisting unpleasantly at the thought of his wife (ex-wife, he reminded himself gloomily) with another man. Even though it had been over a year since he and Astoria had divorced, his feelings for her hadn't changed. But he knew that she would never forgive him for what happened to Cetus. Still, all he ever wanted for Astoria and his boys was to be happy, and if she was happier without him...

They came to a stop in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies shop window and Scorpius glanced at the display of broomsticks with little interest.

"You'll be starting Hogwarts after the summer," Draco ventured. "Would you like a new broomstick to take with you?"

"Mum's already bought me one," Scorpius informed him. Draco's shoulders sagged. Shit. Now he knew how Astoria had felt when he'd bought Cetus' without consulting her first. Scorpius gave him a weak smile, "It's okay, Dad. Cetus was always more interested in flying than I ever was."

"Oh," Draco frowned, feeling confused. "I thought you loved flying."

"I only pretended to be interested in it because you and Cetus liked it so much," he admitted with a slight shrug. "I wanted you to talk to me the way you'd talk to Cetus about things. I asked to go to the matches with you both because I wanted to spend time with you. I know we haven't been to another match since he died, but I'll still go with you to one if you want me to."

Draco felt guilt pulse through him like an exposed nerve. He knew even less about Scorpius than he realised, had spent so much time mourning the loss of one son he had become distant and neglectful of the other. He wanted to change that today. Now. He gave Scorpius' shoulder a light squeeze.

"I want to do things that you're interested in, Scorp. And I want to get you a gift that you actually want," he explained gently. "So tell me, what would you really like for your birthday?"

Scorpius hesitated for a minute before admitting, "I'd really like...a book."

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise, "A book? That's all?" Scorpius nodded.

"Is that okay?" he asked uncertainly. Draco smiled at him.

"If that is that you want, then that is what you'll get."

Scorpius' face broke out into the first real smile Draco had seen in a long time. Merlin, he'd buy him all the books in the shop if it made him smile like that again. A few minutes later they were browsing the shelves of Flourish and Blotts, Scorpius pointing out which books that interested him. Draco had put his foot down and refused his son's request for a copy of 'Magick Moste Evile'.

"I seriously doubt Karl Jenkins' father bought him a copy," Draco argued when his son had protested. "And even if he did, I won't buy it. And don't bother asking your mother either, she'll just tell you the same thing."

As Scorpius skulked off to pick another book, Draco spent some time scanning the shelves. He suppressed a shiver when his eyes fell on the cover of a book entitled 'The Slytherin Heir' - he didn't need to read about the Dark Lord to know what kind of monster he had been. Eventually Scorpius settled on buying 'Madcap Magic for Wacky Warlocks', 'Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland' and (much to Draco's annoyance) a copy of the 'The Boy Who Lived: The Life and Times of Harry Potter'. For some reason his son had developed a fascination with his childhood nemesis, but Draco was willing to indulge his son's interests today, so long as he kept that particular book to his mother's house. As Draco counted out the money for the books, Scorpius drew his father a curious look.

"Why did you buy two copies of each book?" he asked as they left the shop. Draco shrugged nonchalantly.

"I thought we might read them together," he suggested. "That way even if you're over at your mother's, we'll still be reading them together."

Scorpius smiled broadly nodded in agreement. Taking the bag of books from Draco's hand, he peered inside hungrily at the contents he was so keen to read. Draco checked his pocket watch and sighed - his time with Scorpius was almost up.

"We've got time to go for an ice cream before I need to take you to your mother's," he suggested.

"Yes please!" Scorpius replied eagerly, then without warning he darted down the busy street in the direction of the ice cream parlour. Draco weaved his way through the throngs of witches and wizards on the bustling street, struggling to keep pace with his son. Scorpius was so slight and fast Draco was having trouble keeping track of his movements. He has the makings of a great Seeker, he thought ruefully.

"Scorpius, wait for me," he called, having to come to a complete standstill as an elderly witch wandered into his path. Losing patience he Apparated forward a few feet to catch up with his son. He turned on the spot, looking for him, but he couldn't catch sight of him anywhere.

"Scorpius," he shouted again, louder this time. There was no reply, and no sign of the distinctive white-blonde hair amongst the sea of people passing in all directions. Draco felt a slight stab of panic, but quickly suppressed it - Scorpius was probably waiting for him at the ice cream parlour. But when he reached the ice cream parlour, he wasn't there. Draco's heart began to race. They must have passed each other without realising. Scorpius was probably out on the street looking for him, he reasoned. Draco began to retrace his steps, searching the crowd and calling out for his son over and over again, a feeling of dread rising in him. People were drawing him curious looks, but nobody stopped to intervene.

"Scorpius!" he cried louder now, making no effort to hide the desperation in his voice. "Scorpius!"

Draco's foot made contact with something discarded on the path and he saw a paper bag skim across the damp ground, the contents spilling out over the street - a collection of newly purchased books from Flourish and Blotts. Draco snatched up a copy of the 'The Boy Who Lived' and stared at it, momentarily paralysed by shock and confusion. He looked around desperately again and screamed Scorpius' name again, but still his son did not appear. Panic gave way to outright fear as he pushed passed other shoppers, bellowing his son's name over and over again, but to no avail. Scorpius wasn't on Diagon Alley. He was gone.