Ice and Emeralds (A Scorbus Story)

- Chapter Sixteen -

Scorpius was grateful to be home. He walked up the pathway to the grand front entrance of Malfoy Manor, passing hedges and trees on the lawn. A lone white peacock strutted across the pathway ahead of him and disappeared behind a bush. The fountain stood tall, trickling water into a pool below. Roses and other brightly coloured flowers grew all across the garden, filling the air with sickly sweet perfume. Bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds fluttered around. Draco saw to it that the front lawn was well kept and blossoming.

Once inside the massive door, he placed his trunk on the wooden floorboards of the brightly lit entrance hall and breathed in the smell of home. The walls were covered in portraits of Scorpius, Astoria, and Draco, smiling and blinking in their ornate frames.

"It's good to be back," he sighed to Draco, who hung his jacket inside the closet and ran a hand through his hair.

"You must be hungry," he said softly. "What would you like to eat for dinner?"

"Can we make spaghetti?" Scorpius asked hopefully.

"Of course," his father said with a smile.

Scorpius ran up the spiral staircase to his bedroom in the west wing of the house and dropped his trunk on his bed. Then, he bolted back down to the massive kitchen, where evening sunlight filtered into the room through large windows. Since Scorpius was born, Draco did everything he could to make the Manor feel like a proper home. He threw out dozens of old paintings of dead ancestors, removed all the dark, heavy curtains, and painted the walls in lighter colours. The house now had a sort of charming medieval feel to it, as it was large and drafty, but also bright and comfortable.

When they sat down to eat at the long dining table, Scorpius was halfway done his plate when he noticed that his father hadn't touched his. He sat back in his chair and watched Scorpius, a distant expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Father?" he asked, wiping his mouth on a napkin. "Why aren't you eating?"

"Oh, I'm not very hungry," Draco replied casually.

Scorpius scrutinized his father. He was pale and thin, his hair appearing greyer than usual. His eyes were bloodshot with purple circles below them.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or are you going to keep lying to me?" Scorpius said at last. He put his fork down and folded his hands.

Draco sighed deeply and scratched his stubble miserably.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, son," he said in a feeble voice. "I've been feeling down for weeks. Sometimes I can't get out of bed in the morning and other times I lie awake all night and stare at the ceiling. I don't want to go anywhere or do anything. I can't eat. I feel tired and sore all the time."

He leaned in and lowered his voice. "Scorpius, I've been thinking about hurting myself a lot lately. I just feel so empty."

Draco pursed his lips and looked up nervously. Scorpius was stunned.

"I'm sorry," Draco began. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Scorpius whispered.

"I couldn't burden you with this problem of mine," he mumbled. "You were at school. You had your own things to take care of."

"I needed to know about this, Father," Scorpius said firmly. "You should have told me."

"I'll get better, son," Draco insisted. "I want to get better."

"You will," Scorpius decided. "And I'm going to help you. I'm not leaving you alone in this house until you're better."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Draco. "I'll be fine. I can manage."

"No, Father," Scorpius said. "You've always taken care of me. Now I'm going to take care of you. I'll write Albus a letter and tell him that he can't come over this summer---"

"No, Scorpius, he's still welcome to come."

"And I'm not going back to school until you've overcome this sickness."

"I cannot accept that, Scorpius." Draco had a very serious look in his eyes. "That is completely unnecessary."

"If it means that I'm here to stop you from hurting yourself, it is very necessary," Scorpius responded in an equally serious tone.

The two stared each other down for a long moment, testing the weight of the words shared between them. At last, Draco lowered his gaze.

"I don't like feeling like this," he murmured. "I can't stand feeling weak and helpless."

"No one can be strong all the time," Scorpius responded. "We're all weak and helpless sometimes."

"I still think Albus should come over," his father suggested. "You deserve to spend some time with him outside of school."

"Okay, Father," Scorpius said, twirling spaghetti around his fork. "But we're going to have to tell him about the new arrival."

Draco put his hands up in surrender. "That's fine with me."

Finally, Draco began eating the food on his plate. The two sat in silence for the rest of the meal.