One Shots

After the Lullaby Fades

Summary

After Scorpius doesn't show up for the train at the start of their third year, Albus starts to worry about what might have happened to his friend. When they finally see each other later on, the hellish reality comes crashing in on them both.

---

Albus stood silently, watching the train sitting in the station. He had very little interest in going back to Hogwarts, but it did mean that he was able to avoid his dad's attempt to be fun and cheerful with him. It never worked because, while it was well-meant, it was often incredibly cringy and awkward. And it was just an act. Albus wished so much that they could just attempt to be a normal family. For once.

That, of course, never happened. And it likely never would.

He wished, at least, that his dad could stop pretending everything was absolutely fine and dandy when it was so bloody obvious that it wasn't. He understood acting in that way when they were in public. He understood that the cameras would pick up on anything and everything to use as gossip. But the guard never came down, not even at home. And if it did come down, it never came down for him. He wasn't worth it, apparently.

Albus knew that he should have been used to it at that point, but it still hurt that, for some reason, he and his dad were no longer a father and son. Not really. A father was meant to be someone that he could rely on, trust. Albus would rather tell his bullies his deepest secrets than tell his dad. Not that he really had any deep secrets. It wasn't unknown as to how he felt about his family and that was the most private thing about him. Someone else always knew the other things about him. Sometimes, he wanted to put in some sort of effort towards fixing the mess, but he never did.

It seemed that, every time he took a step towards being brave enough to step up, to be the bigger person, something knocked him back. Or he snapped. Or someone, normally James, interrupted. Whatever it was, it prevented him from doing anything. Every single time. Every. Single. Damn. Time.
"Third year," Harry wondered up behind him, smiling. "Big year. Here is your permission form for Hogsmeade."
"I hate Hogsmeade," Albus muttered – the morning had been a particularly bad one.
"How can you hate a place you haven't actually visited yet?" Harry said exasperatedly.
"Because I know it'll be full of Hogwarts students."

Albus took the paper and screwed it up into a ball, concentrating his anger into his fist. He wasn't sure who he was angry at. If he was honest in his own head, it was probably himself. He understood why he was such a disappointment – he was utterly pathetic.
"Just give it a go," Harry said, "come on – this is your chance to go nuts in Hogsmeade without your mum knowing."

Albus pulled his wand out, holding the little ball of paper out in front of him. He had no interest in being forced down to Hogsmeade by anyone and he was going to make sure it couldn't happen. If he wasn't too much of a Squib to manage the spell.
"No, Albus," Harry saw him, "don't you dare!"
"Incendio."

Albus watched the burst of fire as it travelled a little way down the platform, burning up the permission slip as it went.
"Of all the stupid things," Harry snapped.
"The ironic thing is I didn't expect it to work," Albus muttered. "I'm terrible at that spell."
"Al – Albus," Harry attempted to speak calmly. "I've been exchanging owls with Professor McGonagall – she says you're isolating yourself – you're uncooperative in lessons – you're surly – you're–"
"So what would you like me to do?" Albus interrupted angrily, something snapping in his head. "Magic myself popular? Conjure myself into a new house? Transfigure myself into a better student? Just cast a spell, dad, and change me into what you want me to be, okay? It'll work better for both of us. Got to go. Train to catch. Friend to find."

He ran down the platform, ignoring his dad's calls behind him while scanning the crowd for the familiar mop of white-blond hair. While he knew his dad would have been upset by his outburst, he was pleased he had actually said the shit he'd needed to get off his chest. He now had a year to bottle up completely new feelings.