Working Through the Rest

Before Understanding

We sit for a long time, silent, before much happens. That isn't a bad thing. I have a feeling Scorpius doesn't want to talk, and I don't want to pressure him. At one point, Izzy comes back carrying the things I abandoned in the grounds. She says hello to Scorpius but he doesn't respond. She doesn't mind. She understands. I thank her and she leaves.

About half an hour later, the Hospital Wing door opens again and Scorpius looks at who walks in before looking away, staring into space. I look back, slightly surprised to see Draco Malfoy walking towards us. He smiles softly at his son, who doesn't respond, though I know that he saw it.

That worries me, because the last time I saw Scorpius with his dad, he was the happiest I had seen him in a long time. And now he won't even look at him.
"Scorpius?" Draco says gently, sitting down opposite me. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine," Scorpius mumbles, not looking up.

Draco doesn't say anything, looking at me. I avoid eye-contact. Scorpius probably doesn't want to talk and I won't do anything to force him. Part of me thinks I should try to read the textbook that Izzy returned, but another part of me points out that leaving Scorpius effectively alone when he is attempting to ignore his dad is a bad idea. I try to think of something to say. Nothing comes.

I look at Draco again as I realise there is something different about him. His hair is different. It's likely that he rushed to get here and his hair isn't a mess, but it is half-done, the top in a short ponytail. The rest is spread around his shoulders, a little messy.

Scorpius' hands are shaking. He's moved them so Draco cannot see this, but I see. And I don't know what to do. I want to help him, but I don't know how to comfort him without Draco seeing. So I don't do anything.

The silence, constant and mildly unnerving, continues until Scorpius begins to drift off to sleep. Draco watches him intently for a few minutes, and then he turns to me.
"What happened?"
"Scorpius was climbing a tree," I explain quietly. "I looked away and when I looked back, he was on the ground."
"Did someone push him?"
"No."
"Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes."

Draco looks at Scorpius, crossing his face. I am well aware of the thoughts crossing through his head, and well aware that he is about to fire a hundred questions at me.
"Has he been okay recently?"
"He's been very quiet." There is very little point in lying. "We've started talking again, thank Dumbledore."
"You stopped talking?" A look of pure terror crosses his face when I nod.

I can see him attempting to dodge around his questions, ask them sensitively, and I resist the urge to just say it for him.
"Could it be possible–"
"Yes," I interrupt. "Yes, it could be."

The little colour in Draco's cheeks drains away and he looks at Scorpius again, tears springing into his eyes. I bite my lip. I was too blunt, solely because I really don't want to discuss it. I want to talk to Scorpius, try to work out how to help him.
"Has he said anything?"
"He hasn't. I – I pushed him a little too hard when he woke up."
Draco nods. "If anything changes when I go home–"
"I'm not going to tell you," I interrupt again. "Whatever he tells me, he'll be telling me only. If he wants you to know something, he will tell you, or I will, but only at his instructions."

Surprisingly, Draco does not object, nodding. I'm glad. I would defend Scorpius' privacy to my last breath, and I have very little interest in getting into an argument now, especially not with his dad.

Draco smiles gratefully at me. I don't return it, because it feels a little awkward. As time draws on, the likelihood of Scorpius' actions being purposeful grows in my mind, until I am almost entirely convinced.

My best friend, my only friend, tried to kill himself.

I think.