Working Through the Rest

For Forever

Scorpius doesn't begin to talk to me immediately, which is understandable. However, he does try, and that is something I will be eternally grateful for, from now until forever. When his homework is illegible, once I've finished my own, Scorpius lets me copy his out. He stops getting detentions and my marks and organisation actually start to improve because I'm so desperate to make time for his work, which always teaches me something.

Things don't return to normal, simply because it's impossible for us to go back to before Delphi. That's okay, in my head, at least. I assume it's okay in Scorpius' head too, because he attempts to start speaking a little more. It doesn't take us back to her, or before her, rather it takes us both forward. To a place where we are scared, but we know we are safe. Where we are alone, but we know we are loved. Where we are here, and we can be secure in that.

Days pass in weeks. We muddle our way through, as best we can. I still have nightmares, as does Scorpius, but they get better. I don't know whether Scorpius' do completely – it's just something else I assume. I should probably stop making assumptions like this. Except I don't.

Because he doesn't say anything and, if I'm honest with myself, a small part of myself is scared to ask. If I ask and he isn't okay, I don't know how I could actually help him.

*

At the beginning of April, one afternoon, we walk down the grounds and I settle with my transfiguration textbook a few feet from the shade of a tree. I'm not close to the forest or the lake or the Quidditch Pitch, and I have a distraction. I'm going to be okay.

Scorpius flops down on the grass beside me, lying back and staring up at the sky. He's been quieter in the last few days, but I haven't mentioned it other than to ask if he's okay. When he shrugs it off as if nothing is different, I don't push him.

After a few minutes, he stands up again and I look up from the paragraph that I am attempting to make sense of.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he nods slowly. "Just wanted to – do – something."
"Okay," I smile.

He half-smiles back before turning and walking towards the tree. I close the book slowly, watching him pull himself up onto the first branch before looking around himself to carefully calculate his next move.

I don't think either of us have ever climbed a tree before here and I doubt he ever has, given that most of his childhood stories seem to be about books. However, when he climbs, he looks as if he's done it a hundred times before. Every new branch is tested, calculated, and depended on only for as long as is absolutely necessary.

The grounds are reasonably quiet, which is slightly surprising given that it's a nice day in April. I am not, however, complaining. It's a half-decent mercy that no one is here to mock us. I think most of them would climb a tree to mock Scorpius for being the first to climb the tree.

I turn around for a moment to pull something out of my bag and there is a sudden scream of pain. I bolt up, trying to shake the memories rushing through my head. That scream was from Scorpius. I'd know it anywhere because I hear it every single night when I sleep. I look at the tree, and when I don't see him, I look below it.

He is lying, face-down and unmoving on the grass. I sprint towards him, crashing to a stop on the floor beside him. He's landed on his left arm, and the other is laid out to the side of him, apparently uninjured.

I place my hand on his shoulder, trying to wake him up gently. When he doesn't stir, I feel the bile starting to rise in my throat. He's not dead. He can't be dead. Please don't let him be dead.
"Scorpius," I murmur in his ear. "Scorpius!"

He doesn't move and start to lose control, standing up at stumbling backwards. I look around myself, trying to find someone else in the grounds. And then I look back at him, starting to scream. He doesn't like look Craig did. He doesn't look peaceful. He looks broken. No. I shake myself. No. He isn't dead.
"Help!" I scream. "Someone! Help me! Please!"

But no one comes and my screams fade into sobs as I collapse next to Scorpius again, waiting desperately to see if anyone is going to come.