Working Through the Rest

A False Sense of Hope

Scorpius wakes up a while later, a little more awake and aware of our surroundings. He leans up against the wall and I get up and start to search the room for a way out. There's a spark of hope when the second door opens, only to reveal a cupboard containing an empty birdcage.

I sit down after that. There's nothing. There is nothing I can use to get us out of here. And Scorpius keeps begging me to take a break. He points out that me being stressed and tired won't help us when they come back. Because they will.

I sit next to Scorpius, letting him lean his head on my shoulder. Neither of us really have anything that we could say to make ourselves feel better, so we just sit in silence. It's cold and my shaking moves between fear and shivering more than once.

After what I assume is about an hour, Scorpius starts to speak. He's quiet and he stammers a lot, but that's not the most important thing. It's what he says that terrifies me.
"Al..." he trails off slowly. "Albus..."
"Are you all right?"

It's a stupid question, and one that the answer to is incredibly obvious, but I ask it anyway. Some, any, sense of normality about the situation might help. Might.
"I can't – I can't do – this – this again," Scorpius mumbles. "I can't face her – I just..."
"She won't hurt you," I promise firmly. "I won't let them hurt you."
"That curse," Scorpius' voice cracks. "I can't face that – that thing – not again – not with – not her. I can't."
"You won't," I say. "I promise you, I will not let any of them hurt you at all."
"But you..."
"Don't worry about me," I say quietly. "I'll be fine. As long as you're okay, I'll be fine."
"You won't be. That curse, that curse reaches – reaches inside you. It claws and tears and splits and I can't – you can't – Albus, I'm scared."
"I know," I nod. "Listen to me, Scorpius. When they come for us again, I am going to distract them and you are going to run. Don't worry about me. You run."
"They'll kill you."
"No, they won't," I mutter. "They need leverage. And I'll get out some other way."

The last part is an empty promise, but if it gets him out, I don't care. If I'm wrong and I die, let me die. Just as long as he gets out alive.
"We shouldn't fight," Scorpius mumbles suddenly, pulling himself to his feet. "We shouldn't try to fight them."
"Scorpius?"
"People will know we're missing soon. They'll come looking. They'll know."

I feel my stomach sink into the floor. I don't want to tell him. I don't want to crush any hope that he's found. But I know. I know that we, that I, have to fight this one.
"Albus?"
"I don't know if help is coming." The words spill from my mouth. "I don't know."
"What do you mean?"
"Dad and I had – another – argument," I mutter, "during the holidays."
"You'd had an argument – last time – and he moved heaven and earth."
"It's different now." The voice cracks are becoming constant. "Last time, he knew he was wrong. The minute he said it, he knew he'd done wrong. It was a mistake. This time. This time it wasn't a mistake. He meant it. He was so angry. I don't know – I'm so sorry."
"He won't just abandon us – you."

And just like that, Scorpius is the calm one and I am a floundering mess. I think I'm going to cry. That isn't big. I cry all the time. But now it feels huge.
"Albus," Scorpius says firmly. "Albus, let's assume that your dad isn't coming, for argument's sake only, your mum will beat him around the head until he does come. And if she doesn't, for any reason, my dad will."
"Probably," I nod.
"Albus."
"Yeah," I'm a little more decisive. "Yeah. Someone is coming."

I love him. I love that he can find hope through logic even when he's terrified out of his mind. I love him because he can look past his fear, and I so strongly wish that I could do that. I so strongly wish that I could help him, because he needs it. And I can't. I don't know how. I stand up and walk towards him, shoving my hands in my pockets. And then I freeze as I feel something in my pocket. Something small, thin. I pull it out.
"I love my sister," I grin.
"What?"
"Hairpin," I hold it up. "I have a hairpin."
"No," Scorpius says firmly. "No. We play it safe. We wait."

Not for much longer. I'm not waiting only to risk his life.