Chapter Text
Find what you love and let it kill you.
Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness.
Let it kill you and let it devour your remains.
For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover.
-Charles Bukowski
*
Scorpius isn't on the Hogwarts Express at the start of seventh year. This would be alarming in itself, but coupled with the fact that Albus has heard nothing from him in weeks, it's downright terrifying.
Albus waits in their usual compartment for half an hour, pacing up and down between the seats. He sticks his head out of the window to try and peer across the steam-filled platform towards the barrier, but he doesn't see anything through the billowing clouds. There's no sign of Scorpius in the corridor on the train either, no flash of white-blond hair among the jostling crowd.
It's weird because Scorpius is usually so eager to get to school. He's the first one on the train every year. Albus would have expected him to be buzzing with excitement for their final year. He would have expected to find him waiting by the barrier, bouncing up and down and flailing and talking at a million miles an hour about their classes. But there's no sign of him anywhere.
He hangs half out of an open window and watches as the clock hanging over the platform hits eleven o'clock, panic rising. His mum is still there chatting to Hermione, and she gives him one last kiss on the cheek as the train gives a long hiss and begins to move, but it isn't comforting. He just feels empty. This is the first time he's ever ridden this train without Scorpius. He doesn't want to do it alone.
As they chug out of the station, slowly picking up speed, he expects to see Scorpius sprinting down the platform after them, trying to catch up, shouting for the train to wait for him. But all he sees is the crowd of parents, siblings, and other assorted well-wishers, already beginning to thin out now there's no longer a reason to wait.
Albus sighs and pulls back from the window. There's only one person on this train other than him who might have seen Scorpius. His last possible hope of not having to spend the journey alone. If Scorpius is anywhere, he'll be with Rose and the other Prefects.
Albus squeezes his way down the crowded corridors, weaving through the mess of people. A group of first years stare at him as he passes, and he shoots them a glare that makes them all go bright red and run away into their compartment. Aside from them, he gets the usual snide comments from the Gryffindors he passes, and Karl tries to trip him. Albus hops over his foot and walks away, ignoring the jeers. He thinks Scorpius would have been proud of him.
He eventually finds Rose at the opposite end of the train, telling off a couple of fifth year Hufflepuffs for littering in their compartment. When she spots Albus coming she gives them a final stern look and promises to report them to Professor Sprout if she finds any more mess. Then she slams the compartment door shut and turns to Albus.
"Where's Scorpius?" She asks. "He wasn't in the Prefects' carriage but he should have been. He has Head Boy duties to do. Is he hiding down the other end of the train with you?"
Albus stares at her. "He's Head Boy now? When did that happen?"
Rose frowns. "You mean he hasn't told you?"
"He hasn't told me anything!" Albus says, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair. "Have you really not seen him? This is important, Rose."
She shakes her head. "No, Albus. I have not seen your boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend," Albus protests.
"You could have fooled me." She swishes her robes around herself with great authority and draws herself up tall. "I would have expected him to be more responsible. You'll have to go back and tell him that if he continues to shirk his duties I will come and have words with him. He should be very af-"
"I haven't seen him either," Albus says.
Rose freezes. "Excuse me?"
"None of his stuff is in our usual carriage. I didn't spot him on the platform. I thought he'd be up here with you, but..." he swallows. "Do you think he missed the train? Have you heard from him at all?"
She shakes her head, frowning. "I haven't had anything from him. Not a letter all summer. But I thought he'd have written to you..."
Albus looks over his shoulder, checking the crowded corridor for any sign of a tall, skinny, flailing figure. There's nothing. "Not for weeks." He looks back at Rose. "I went on holiday with Mum and Dad and Lily, and when we got back he just stopped writing to me..."
Rose folds her arms and gives him a look. "Did you two have another fight?"
Albus shrugs, feeling completely lost. "If we did it wasn't one I knew about. Anyway, Scorpius doesn't stop writing when we fight. He writes even more, whole essays about how much he hates me. It's like his brain won't shut up."
Rose unfolds her arms with a desperate flourish. "Well... Maybe he's on holiday!"
Albus sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "It's the first day of school, Rose. It's the first day of seventh year. Of course he's not on holiday."
"Just a suggestion," she says, a note of defensiveness in her voice. She looks out of the window, staring over the passing houses, like she's hoping to find the answer written in the sky. "Maybe he's ill," she says finally with a frustrated little shrug.
Albus snorts. "He'd have to be pretty ill not to come to school. He loves it here. I think even if he was dying he'd find a way to drag himself here."
Rose adjusts her Head Girl badge and frowns off into space. "What about his dad?" She looks at Albus. "Maybe something's wrong with his dad. Has your dad mentioned anything? He's friends with Draco."
Albus shakes his head. "Nothing..."
"Well, maybe you should write to him and check."
Albus nods thoughtfully. "That's a good idea... maybe I'll go and do that now. I'll see if he's in any of the compartments on the way. You never know, he might have had a sugar crash and fallen asleep in one of them or something."
"I wouldn't be surprised," Rose says. "Anyway, I'm going to go and yell at those third years who nearly set their compartment on fire earlier. I mean really, letting off fireworks on a train. How stupid do you have to be?" She sets off, then stops dead and looks back at Albus. "Do you want me to come and find you later? I can help with the letter if you want."
"I think I'm capable of writing my own letter," Albus snaps, worry and frustration finally getting the better of him.
Rose holds her hands up. "Just offering. You don't have to get all touchy about it."
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I'm not touchy. I just wish I knew where he was."
Rose puts a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he's okay."
Albus meets her eyes. "I really hope so."
He sends the letter out that afternoon, then spends a lonely night stuck at the end of the Slytherin table without his best friend. The Sorting feels dull, and the Feast is tasteless since there's no Scorpius to enjoy it with. It's like all the life and colour has been sucked out of the world.
The worst part of the evening comes when he goes up to the dormitory and has to try and sleep beside Scorpius's empty bed. He tosses and turns all night, wondering and worrying, and getting very little sleep. It's a relief to get up and go to breakfast next morning.
Thankfully, his dad's reply comes while he's sitting there picking at his bacon. He nearly knocks over his goblet of pumpkin juice in his eagerness to untie the letter. Wiggles, the family snowy owl, hoots indignantly at him, and he strokes her head and feeds her a bit of toast crust to make up for his over-excitement. Once he's freed the letter from her leg he glances up at Rose and waves her over. She glances around then dashes across the hall to sit in Scorpius's empty seat.
"You know we're not supposed to switch tables at meals," she hisses, ducking her head and looking up at the staff table to see if she's been spotted. "We're setting a bad example to the kids."
"Whatever," Albus says. "We're seventh years. The rules don't apply to us anymore."
"That's not even a little bit-" She breaks off at Albus's look and tuts. "Fine. Show me this letter."
Albus shoves the cornflake bowl and toast rack out of the way and smooths the letter out on the table between them.
Albus,
Glad to hear the train ride was okay. I know Professor McGonagall was a bit worried about all those high winds around the border.
I agree it seems a little odd Scorpius wasn't there, and no, I haven't heard from Draco in a few weeks, not since we got back from France. I'll keep an eye out for him at work and if I hear anything I'll write. Hopefully they'll turn up soon!
Good luck with the term. I'm sure you'll be excellent. Are you planning to take the advanced Apparition lessons if they're offered? It'll give you a great head start for Auror training. I wish I'd had chance to take them.
Constant vigilance, and keep in touch (at least let us know you're alive this term, your mum was really worried last year when you didn't write).
Love,
Dad
"So Draco's missing too?" Albus says, glancing across the table at Rose.
She sighs and folds her arms, leaning on the tabletop. "Now you're going to worry more, aren't you?"
Albus stares down at the letter again. "Of course I am. What if someone's kidnapped them? What if... What if Delphi or someone broke out of Azkaban and kidnapped them?"
Rose tuts. "Do you have to be so dramatic? They're probably fine, Albus. And no one's broken out of Azkaban in years."
"But what if-"
Rose shakes her head and taps a finger on the table. "Speculating is just going to make you even more crazy. Let's just assume everything's fine for now-"
"Which it isn't-"
"And then," Rose continues forcefully, "we can reassess when we get more information in the future. Okay?"
Albus looks at her, takes a deep breath, and nods. "Okay."
He doesn't feel like assuming everything is fine. He feels like his whole world has been turned upside down. He's only been at Hogwarts once before without Scorpius and it had been hell then, too. The sooner Scorpius comes back, the better.
"Good," Rose says. She reaches out for the toast rack and pushes it toward Albus. "Now stop stressing and eat something. It's our first day of seventh year classes! We have to be on top form."
Albus picks up a piece of toast and takes a bite of it. "I'm not sure I've got a top form," he says, through his dry mouthful of crumbs.
Rose rolls her eyes at him.
She was right about the lessons. All of a sudden they've become more fiendishly difficult than ever before. It isn't just the content that's hard, but they're being taught at a frantic pace, like they're already running out of time to learn everything they need to, and the lectures at the start of their first class of the year in every subject are terrifying. With teachers constantly telling them that their whole lives depend on the next few months, and with every minute seeming to count far more than before, Albus is overwhelmed.
But never for a moment is he overwhelmed enough to forget Scorpius's absence. That's impossible, when worry is niggling at him in every moment, and life at Hogwarts is a constant, stressful reminder that Scorpius isn't here. Every few seconds in class they're given some nugget of information that Scorpius would have loved if he'd been there, and Albus finds himself taking twice as many notes as before. When Scorpius eventually shows up, which Albus is praying he will soon, he's going to need to catch up, and Albus is going to help him as best he can. That's what best friends do.
Outside of lessons is where Albus feels his loss most keenly. Every time he looks across at Scorpius's empty seat in the Great Hall, every time he looks up from his books in the Common Room at night and remembers he's alone at their normal table by the fire, every time he goes to sleep with Scorpius's bed empty beside him and wakes up to silence rather than geeky enthusiasm, he feels so alone. Even in his darkest days at the school, during third and fourth year, he never once felt truly alone the way he does now.
First thing on Wednesday morning, Albus has his first Transfiguration lesson of the year. He's never enjoyed getting up early, and he's struggling without Scorpius as an enthusiastic alarm clock, so he's still half asleep while Professor McGonagall calls out the register.
"Jake Llewelyn."
"Yes, Professor."
"Amber Lyon."
"Yes, Professor."
"Scorpius Malfoy... No, of course not."
Albus's head snaps up off his arms and he frowns across the classroom at her. What does that mean? 'Of course not?' Without a second's hesitation, he shoots his hand into the air.
"Professor," he calls.
She breaks off in the middle of calling a name, and looks at him over the top of her glasses. "Yes, Potter?"
"Where's Scorpius?"
Everyone turns to look at him, but he doesn't lower his hand. He keeps it high in the air, resolute and determined.
McGonagall's expression flickers ever so slightly, then returns to its usual, calm sternness. "I don't think this is the moment to discuss that, do you?"
Albus waves his hand in the air. "But I need to-"
"Come and talk to me at the end of class," she says, and it might be wishful thinking, but Albus is almost there's a note of kindness in her voice.
"But-" he tries, but she shakes her head.
"Later, Potter."
It's so final that he immediately withdraws his hand and stares down at the desk.
All his spells are off-kilter for the next couple of hours. He's jittering too much to concentrate. They're only recapping things from last year, but anyone watching him would never believe he'd got an E in his sixth year exams, and in the end he gives up on trying to turn his teacup into a turtle. Instead he puts his chin on top of his stack of books and stares at the clock on the wall, willing it move faster.
The second the bell goes for the end of class, Albus shoots out of his seat and rushes up to McGonagall's desk.
"Professor!"
"Potter," she says, glancing up at him. "I'm sure I can't imagine what you're here for."
"Scorpius," Albus says breathlessly. "Do you know where he is? I haven't heard from him in weeks. He wasn't on the Hogwarts Express. Is he okay?"
McGonagall sighs softly and shuffles through her papers. "This is private information, but Scorpius asked me to share it with you since the two of you are so close, and I'm sure I can trust you with it."
"Yes?" Albus says, heart racing.
McGonagall looks up from her desk, expression sombre. "Scorpius has been spending some time in St Mungo's. He hasn't been well. He's at home now, and I believe he will be joining us shortly. I understand he's quite eager not to miss too much more school."
"St Mungo's?" Albus asks, a chill of dread running through him. "What's wrong with him? Professor-"
McGonagall raises a hand to cut him off. "I'm very sorry, Potter, but I don't know any more." She surveys him through her glasses. "I suggest you try not to worry too much. You have a lot of work to concentrate on, and with your ambitions it's imperative that you keep on top of everything. I'm sure Scorpius will be back with us in no time."
Albus opens his mouth to ask more questions, then closes it again and nods reluctantly. "Alright. Thank you, Professor."
McGonagall watches him a moment longer before removing her glasses. "Potter, if you need help with anything, especially your Transfiguration work, you know where to find me. I noticed you struggling today."
Albus swallows. "I was distracted. I can do better."
McGonagall nods. "Understandably so, but nevertheless. I'd hate to see your potential go to waste. I expect at least an E from you in your exams next summer."
"Alright," Albus says, looking down at his hands. "I'll come and ask if I need anything. I'll see you soon, Professor."
"No doubt you will. Have a good day, Potter."
Albus hesitates by the desk a moment longer, then he picks up his bag, leaves the classroom, and rushes to tell Rose the news.
It's Tuesday morning in the second week. Albus has arrived at Potions just early enough to set up properly, but late enough that he still has to rush. He's busy arranging ingredients and reading through his notes when Rose comes flying into the room and drops into the seat beside him, Scorpius's normal seat. She's never normally this late, and she never arrives at a lesson in anything other than a serene state, but this morning her hair is a mess, her robes are askew, and she's breathing hard like she's sprinted the whole way here.
Albus looks up at her in surprise. "You're late. What happened?"
She dumps her bag on the floor and turns to him. "You weren't at breakfast, were you?"
"No," Albus says, putting a container of beetle eyes on the table. "I slept in."
Rose tuts. "Breakfast is important, Albus. What would your mum say about-"
"I know," Albus says, waving for her to stop. "Skip the lecture and tell me what happened?"
"Okay, but-"
"Before I strangle you?" Albus says, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
Rose sighs dramatically and starts pulling books from her bag. "Scorpius is here."
Albus flails in complete shock and knocks the beetle eye container off the table. It shatters, and shiny black beetle eyes roll all over the floor. "He is?"
Rose waves her wand impatiently and repairs the container. With another flick, the beetle eyes return to it, and everything levitates itself back onto Albus's desk. "Yes, he is. Which you'd know if you'd come to breakfast."
"How is he?" Albus asks, abandoning his potion ingredients, messy and only half sorted out on the desk. "Is he okay?" He leans in close to Rose, voice dropping to a whisper. "Did you talk to him?"
She shakes her head and starts pulling jars of herbs from her Potions kit. "I didn't talk to him, but I saw him bringing his trunk in. He looked... Well, he looked pretty awful actually."
Albus's heart sinks like it's made of lead. "He's been ill," he says, trying to reason it out, trying to dampen the panic that's sparking up inside him. "Maybe he's still recovering. Do you think he'll come to class?" He looks over his shoulder towards the door.
"He looked like someone who was going straight to bed." She shakes her head, and there's deep and genuine concern in her eyes. "He doesn't look well enough for lessons, Albus."
Albus shuts his potions book with a snap. "I'm going to go and see him."
Rose takes hold of his bag so he can't leave. "No," she hisses. "You need to stay here. We're doing the Draught of Living Death today. It's always on the N.E.W.T. exam, Mum told me. This is important."
Albus tries to tug his bag away from her. "Seeing Scorpius is more important than anything. I can catch up later."
Rose doesn't let go of the bag. "I'm as worried as you are, but I think we should give him some space. Let him get settled in and have a nap. You'll see him at lunchtime."
Albus pulls at the bag for a moment longer, then deflates. "Why are you always right?"
Rose lets him have his bag back and pats him on the arm. "Dad says I got it from Mum. Do you want help with those ingredients?"
Albus is usually excellent at Potions. Aside from Defence Against the Dark Arts it's his one real speciality. He even got an O for it in his O.W.L.s. But today the only thing standing between him and everything exploding is Rose. Twice she grabs his arm to stop him putting in completely the wrong ingredient. His usual flair is utterly erased by the knowledge that Scorpius is somewhere in this castle and in a couple of hours he can see him.
Miraculously, after three hours trapped in the sweltering dungeon, Albus manages to produce a half decent attempt at a Draught of Living Death. Normally it would be a lot better, but under the circumstances he's quite proud of it. It isn't a congealed mess at least, and he didn't set anything or anyone on fire.
He cleans up in a rush, thanks Rose for saving him, half throws his finished flask at the teacher, and sprints from the room, running blindly for the Slytherin Dungeon.
When he arrives he gabbles the password, hurls himself up the creaky staircase, and bursts into the dorm, backpack bouncing, out of breath. Exactly two steps into the room he stops dead.
Scorpius is there. His trunk is half unpacked, and there are clothes strewn on the floor and the bed. It's a familiar sight; he's always been a bit messy. But Scorpius himself doesn't look anything like he normally would.
He's lying on his bed in the midst of all the chaos, swathed in a nest of blankets and screwed up robes and t-shirts, his cuddly toy bat, Bathilda, hugged to his chest. He's fast asleep, and it looks like he passed out halfway through unpacking, like he just couldn't manage it anymore. Albus can see that his face is sunken and even more pale than usual. There are shadows under his eyes, and he looks thin, frail even, like he's just a bag of bones and not much else. Albus is so used to seeing Scorpius healthy, and energetic, positively brimming over with life, that it's shocking, almost painful to look at.
Albus tiptoes across to his own bed and starts repacking his bag for afternoon lessons. It seems cruel to wake Scorpius up now, so he might as well just get on with his day and talk to him later. At least he's seen him now. At least he knows he's alive. Just about.
He's busy figuring out how to fit two different Defence books, his quills and parchment, and a Charms book into his bag when he hears a familiar, sing-song voice murmur from the bed next to him.
"Albus..."
Albus looks up to find Scorpius grinning at him.
"Did I wake you?" Albus asks.
Scorpius shakes his head. "You should have though." He lifts himself up slightly from the bed and looks Albus up and down. "You look truly wonderful. Even better than I remembered."
Albus feels his cheeks heat, and he breaks into a broad smile, unable to help himself. "Thanks. You look absolutely awful."
"About as good as I feel, then." Scorpius sits up very slowly, like his whole existence is painful. "Are you going to lunch?"
"Yes I am," Albus says, sitting down on the edge of his bed and hugging his over-stuffed bag to his chest. "Do you want anything?"
"No. I'm coming with you." Scorpius sits Bathilda against his pillows and hauls himself off the bed, swaying slightly on his feet. "Give me a second to find my tie."
"Scorpius."
Scorpius ignores him. "And it's Defence and Charms this afternoon, correct? I'm still annoyed I slept through Potions."
"Scorpius," Albus repeats, rather more forcefully.
Scorpius looks up at him, one hand on the bed post for support, the other fumbling with his green and silver tie. "Yes, Albus?"
Albus swallows. "When I said you looked awful... I meant really, really awful. Are you okay? Should you be going to lessons? Shouldn't you just rest?"
Scorpius's face hardens with determination. "My body may be somewhat afflicted, but I assure you my mind is sound and incredibly bored. I have been lying down almost constantly for the last six weeks. If I stay here I might just finally lose it. And I've missed you, so." He gives a bright smile, and Albus can see the Scorpius-ness of him behind the tired, weak exterior. "Lessons it is! Very important year. I won't miss another minute of it."
"I took notes for you," Albus says. "While you were away. I knew you'd hate missing so much. I made sure to write down all the things you'd be interested in."
Scorpius glances up from where he's crouched on the floor, shoving books into his bag. "I really love you, you know that?" He grins and straightens up, throwing the bag over his shoulder. "Shall w-" He breaks off and sinks onto the bed like his knees have just buckled underneath him. From relatively fine to obviously unwell in an instant. His head falls onto his chest like he doesn't have the strength to hold it up, and his face contorts in intense pain.
"Scorpius," Albus says in alarm. "Are you okay?" He gets up and crosses the room to sit next to Scorpius, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Do you need me to fetch Madam Pomfrey?"
Scorpius braces himself against the bed, tips of his fingers turning white as he presses them into the mattress. He shakes his head. "No. I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," Albus says, frowning at him.
"I will be though," Scorpius mutters through gritted teeth. "This happens."
"This isn't something that's supposed to happen," Albus murmurs, squeezing his shoulder.
"I know," Scorpius growls. "I am very well aware that this isn't normal. I don't need you to remind me. Thanks."
Albus lets go of his shoulder and reels back a few inches. "Sorry."
For a long moment Scorpius stays perfectly still, then he relaxes a bit and draws in a deep breath. He buries his face in his hands. "No," he murmurs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap like that. It's... It's been a long few weeks and I just want things to be normal again." He looks up at Albus. "So can we go to lunch and class and pretend everything is fine? Please?"
"But what if you-"
Scorpius looks at Albus and there's a hint of desperation in his eyes. "Please."
Albus doesn't hesitate any longer before nodding. "Rose will be glad to see you. She's missed you too, you know."
Scorpius smiles. "She really is starting to warm up to me, Albus. It's almost a shame I'm not especially interested anymore." He offers Albus his arm, and Albus takes it. As he does he feels Scorpius wince, so he tightens his grip a little and leans into Scorpius's body to offer him some support.
"You have no idea how much I missed you," Scorpius murmurs.
"I think I might, actually," Albus replies, squeezing his arm.