Working Through the Rest

Little Shocks

The first thing I notice when my mind swims out of sleep, is that the trunk that I was using as a pillow no longer has uncomfortably hard edges. Or, possibly, someone has put a pillow where the trunk was. It also feels like I'm under a blanket. A heavy, warm blanket.

I pull my legs closer to my chest, smiling to myself. I'm not alone. I knew before, knew that they cared about me, but this, knowing that they care this much, it makes me feel warm, happy.

I open my eyes slowly, starting to roll over and stretch. I stop sharply as I come face to face with Scorpius, who is curled up beside me, dozing. I watch him, smiling softly at his peace. He looks so beautifully calm.

His lips are curled upwards slightly, in a small, subconscious smile, which flutters as he breathes. His fringe is hanging over his right eye, slightly longer than it normally is. Knowing him, he probably forgot to trim his hair in the midst of revising for OWLs.

His eyes open slowly and I smile at him softly, taking his hand. He puts his arms around me, hugging me tightly, and I try not to cry. I missed him so much, and I'm only letting it hit me properly now. I can forget the façade now.
"Hey," he murmurs. "How are you?"
"Glad to see you," I whisper. "Thank you for the pillow and the blanket."
"I couldn't just let you keep using a trunk and a jumper, could I?"
"You scared me when I saw you."
"I scared you?" Scorpius raises an eyebrow. "How do you think dad reacted when he came in here for breakfast?"
"Shit," I mutter. "Oh damnit. Was he okay with – me? I'm sorry."
"It's fine," Scorpius smiles softly. "It's fine, Albie."

There's a short silence and he looks at my face carefully. I bite my lip, a little awkward, and he takes my hand again.
"Did someone hurt you?" he asks quietly.
"No," I say. "Why?"
"Your eye," Scorpius murmurs. "Albus, who did that?"

Oh. Oh right. Of course. I didn't take the eyeliner off properly and it's scared him. I should have realised this.
"It's not an injury," I promise. "It's – it's eyeliner."
"Eyeliner," he repeats.
"Yeah," I nod.

I lick the tip of my thumb and attempt to wipe the last of the stuff away. From the way that Scorpius cringes, I have the feeling that I have only smudged it, but it's enough to prove that it isn't a bruise.
"Why are you wearing eyeliner?" Scorpius murmurs.
"Lily wanted to practice on me," I shrug. "It was fun until dad caught us."
"Oh. Oh, Albus. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."
"It's not your fault," I point out. "It doesn't matter. I just – I couldn't stay there. Not for another week."
"And you don't have to," Scorpius smiles at me softly. "You're here. Would you like some breakfast?"
"Please," I nod.

We sit up and Scorpius wraps his arms around me, leaning his head on my shoulder, and I smile. We stand up, somewhat clumsily, both giggling, and I stop abruptly as the door opens and Draco walks in.

He is, probably unsurprisingly, wearing a dressing gown that is stark contrast to his usual robes. I stare at him for a moment, before shaking myself quickly.
"Good morning, Albus," Draco smiles at me.
"Uh, good morning," I reply, stumbling slightly. "Sorry for just – you know – sleeping there. And scaring you. Sorry for scaring you."
"It's fine," Draco smiles again, softer. "How are you? Are you okay?"
"I am," I nod. "It's just – it's been really tense, and I had a really bad day a couple of days again. And I had another fight with – him. I thought it was probably better if I came here."
"I'm glad you're safe."
"We were going to get some breakfast," Scorpius takes my hand.
"Okay."

Scorpius pulls me towards a cupboard, taking two bowls from it, and then grabbing a box of fairly sugary cereal. He offers it to me and I pour what I imagine is only handful of stuff in. Scorpius looks at me, eyebrows raised.
"Are you planning on eating more than that?"
"I'm not hungry," I shrug. "I haven't eaten much in the last week."
"When did you last eat?"
"Probably yesterday lunch."

Scorpius raises his eyebrows further, and then he takes the cereal from me, filling the bowl completely. He does the same for himself, dousing both portions in far too much milk. Then he pulls me to the table and sits us both down.
"Eat," he says softly. "Please."

I take the spoon slowly and do as he asks. I do need to eat. He's right.