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Chapter Text

Harry loved his children. After more than twelve years as a parent, he was still blown away by it on a daily basis, how much he loved them.

He’d always wanted a family. Everyone who knew him knew that. If asked, he couldn’t have articulated why exactly but he’d known since he was old enough to realise that the Dursleys weren’t his family – not in any way that counted – that he’d wanted one of his own. Hermione had many theories on this, of course, things related to security and self-worth and identity. Ginny simply said he needed to love in an uncomplicated manner. And while being a parent wasn’t easy, loving his kids certainly was. It was straightforward and unconditional and completely humbling in its power.

Sometimes, when the media were pressing in on them so close Harry couldn’t even Apparate his family away without bringing the reporters along with them, he wondered if it was entirely fair of him to have had children, to burden them with the name Potter and all that came with it. Whenever he voiced this concern, Ginny would give him a despairing but fond look and his children would stridently object, insisting that they loved being his children, were proud to be Potters. James would joke that Harry killing Voldemort had secured him a date every weekend for the rest of his life. Al would dryly state that being born a Potter was better than the alternative. Lily would roll her eyes at her brothers and then climb onto Harry’s lap and give him a long hug.

They were all so different, his three children. Harry rather suspected James took after his namesake. He was gregarious and clever and got in more trouble than both his siblings combined. And while Harry himself had certainly got into his share of scrapes in his time, he had never relished the act of mischief quite the way his eldest son seemed to. James loved pranks and schemes and anything that got a reaction. From a very young age, he had learned how to use the press to his advantage, manipulating them, giving comments and allowing himself to be photographed as suited his purposes. More often than not, the stories and photos that showed up in the Daily Prophet supported whatever rumour or prank he was orchestrating at the time. Needless to say, when the Sorting Hat sent James to Slytherin, no one was very surprised.

In many ways, Albus seemed to be the dead opposite of his brother. He was quiet and serious and deadly earnest. He shared Harry’s bone-deep sense of right and wrong and his near compulsion to step in when he saw someone being hurt or taken advantage of. He didn’t share his brother’s ease with the press, instead taking their intrusion into their lives very seriously and very personally. Unfortunately, Al was the one the press wanted the most. He looked just like Harry after all, and his dislike of attention was just one more thing he shared with his famous father. Whenever reporters cornered them, shouting out their questions and blocking off escape paths, Al swung back and forth between a kind of nervous shyness and indignant rage. Sometimes Harry felt like he understood Al better than he did anyone else in his life, he saw so much of himself in his son. Other times, Al was a complete mystery, and Harry found himself having new sympathy for Hermione and Ron, finally appreciating how hard it must have been for them when he kept everything inside.

Lily’s personality fell somewhere between those of her brothers. She was outgoing but she was much more grounded than James. She shared his comfort in crowds but she preferred conversation to pranks and was more prone to melodrama than mischief. Like her mother she was the baby of the family and the only girl and, like her mother, she was spoiled shamelessly because of it. She was also the family mediator, the neutral party that could negotiate peace between her brothers. No matter how many times they fought, she was there to help them sort it out. Harry didn’t know where she got her patience. Not from him or Ginny, he knew that much. Harry liked to think it came from his own mother.

Being a parent was different than he thought it would be, though. Most things in life were – he’d learned that the hard way. He’d anticipated the exhaustion, the busyness, the constant demands for time and attention. He’d expected the sudden illnesses that had them Flooing the Healer at three in the morning, the scraped knees and bumped heads, the fights between them that ended in tears. He’d known he would worry about them and want only the best for them.

But he hadn’t known how much it would hurt when they hurt. Every trial tore at his heart. Every hardship, no matter how small, made him want to sweep them up and lock them away from the world so that they might never know pain of any kind. Watching them go out into the world, living their lives, making mistakes and dealing with the consequences, hurting at times, was the hardest thing he had ever done. He often thought he’d rather face Voldemort again than see his kids suffer even for a moment. He’d take a hundred Dementors over even one of their tears.

Seven weeks after the final battle where Voldemort was destroyed once and for all, Harry had bought a cottage in a remote coastal village in north-eastern England. He hadn’t even known the name of the place at the time, only that it was tiny and Muggle and his cottage was set so far back from the rest, it was almost completely isolated. He’d stayed there by himself until September rolled around and he’d had to return to Hogwarts to finish his education. But he came back to the cottage every summer for a few weeks by himself. Ron and Hermione visited, of course, and Ginny, but they didn’t stay. It wasn’t a place he shared with others. It was just for him. A place for him to be alone, with no one asking anything of him. Until James was born.

James had been four months old that first summer. When Harry told Ginny he wanted to take James to the cottage with him, alone, she’d thought he was joking. She’d agreed – after four months of next to no sleep, she relished the idea of seven nights of uninterrupted rest – but it had been obvious she hadn’t thought Harry would be able to handle a whole week alone with their son.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she’d said with a laugh as he waved good-bye.

But she hadn’t. She hadn’t seen them for a whole week. It was exhausting taking care of an infant all by himself, to be sure, but it was wonderful. Harry had spent hours on the beach, just sitting with James in his arms, staring at the sea, relishing the sweet weight of his son’s body against his own, listening to the sound of his soft breath mingling with that of the waves lapping at the shore. He almost hadn’t wanted to return at the end of the week, not ready to let go of this quiet joy he had found with his son.

That had been how it started, Harry’s annual trips to the cottage with his children. At first it had been just for one week. Then, once they were a little older, it became two weeks, and then three. When they were a bit older still, he had invited them each to bring a friend along. He loved his time alone with his children more than anything, but he was under no illusions. Three weeks in a village with a population of 127 and absolutely nothing in the way of entertainment except for one’s siblings was hardly a kid’s idea of fun. James and Lily had jumped at the chance. Albus however hadn’t brought anyone to the cottage, happy to keep Harry company instead.

It wasn’t that Al didn’t have friends; he did, lots of them in fact. Despite his quiet nature, Al was very well-liked. He often had friends round to the house and was constantly being invited over for visits and sleepovers and weekend getaways. He seemed to enjoy his time with his friends but he was much more reserved than either of his siblings. He didn’t wrestle and playfight with his friends the way James did, nor did sit and talk for hours, laughing and shouting the way Lily and her friends did. And, unlike his brother and sister, Al always seemed glad to come home again. He was always at his most relaxed when it was just the family, sitting together, no one else about.

Harry knew one day this would change and Al would prefer his friends to his family. One day Al would no longer seek out Harry’s company over anyone else’s. But for now, he did, and Harry loved it.

Summer 2018 (end of first year)

When Al had said he wanted to bring a friend to the cottage that summer, Harry had known immediately who it would be. Scorpius Malfoy’s name had been all over every letter Al had sent home since starting at Hogwarts. They were in Gryffindor together (and god, but Malfoy must have choked on that) and, according to reports from Harry’s various nieces and nephews, were nearly inseparable. Not that the reports were all that detailed, mind you. With James in Slytherin, Rose in Ravenclaw and Victoire not predisposed to noticing anyone younger than herself, it was hard for Harry to get much information on the surprising friendship outside of his son’s letters and the bit of gossip that occasionally made its way to Neville.

Once it had become clear the friendship wasn’t going to end any time soon, Harry had started asking around about Scorpius. Finding information about the youngest Malfoy was easier said than done, however. The family had kept a low profile since the war, with Malfoy apparently doing everything in his power to shield his only child from the constant press of the public. But Harry did manage to find out the odd tidbit.

Apparently, Scorpius did well in school, ranking high in all of his classes and having an intuitive understanding of magic. He was a good flier but the jury was still out on whether or not he was interested in trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He liked sugar quills, swimming and dogs. He was slightly allergic to strawberries. He often wore a leather bracelet that some kids thought was cool and others thought was most definitely not. Scorpius was kind to most of his housemates, though he had a bit of a mouth on him, and he was quick to defend his friends, especially Albus. It was a strange assortment of facts but the consensus, even if it was of doubtful quality, seemed to be that Scorpius Malfoy was a decent kid.

And, if Harry needed further proof, he only needed to look as far as the smile that lit up Albus’s face every time he talked about his friend. Harry trusted Al. He knew his younger son was a good judge of character. If Albus saw something likable in Scorpius, then there was something likeable there. And even though they might share a name and a face, Scorpius was not his father. Children were not their parents, no matter how much they looked alike. Harry only had to look as far as his own father to know that.

Even knowing all this, though, Harry still wasn’t prepared for the emotional shock of seeing Scorpius pop into existence in the middle of Harry’s sanctuary, looking every inch his father at age twelve. Of course, it didn’t help matters that said father had popped into existence right along with him. As the two Malfoys found their post-Portkey footing, Harry took a moment to study them. It really was remarkable. If not for the shortness of the white-blond hair and the blue of his eyes, there would have been nothing to differentiate Scorpius from his father other than age

It wasn’t until he heard Malfoy grumble, “I can’t believe I’m in Potter’s house,” that Harry shook himself and remembered to play host.

He cleared his throat, unsure what to say. “So you made it okay, then?”

“Clearly, Potter, since we’re both standing here unharmed. How good to know the years haven’t diminished your uncanny ability to grasp the obvious.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I was just trying to be polite, Malfoy.”

“How gracious of you. Sadly your pathetic attempt at manners does nothing to change the fact that your words are pure idiocy.”

Harry ignored that and turned to the younger Malfoy. “So, you must be Scorpius.”

“Again, brilliant deduction, Potter.”

“Pleased to meet you sir,” Scorpius said, extending a hand.

Harry shook it while Malfoy glared at a spot somewhere over his son’s shoulder.

Then there was the sound of footsteps thundering overhead and down the stairs and Albus appeared, a smile a mile-wide on his face. “Scorpius! You’re here!”

Before Scorpius could respond, Al flung himself at the blond boy, the hug almost knocking them both over.

Harry’s jaw dropped.

Never in twelve years had he seen Al show affection for anyone other than family. Even with their family, Lily was the only one he still hugged willingly with any regularity. He accepted his parents hugs, liked them even, but he rarely initiated them. Harry couldn’t remember the last time Al had touched James other than to shove him. While Al was close with his cousins, Harry couldn’t recall much in the way of physical affection between them. And Harry had never even seen Al so much as clap a hand on his friends’ shoulders before, never mind throwing himself at them with abandon.

So Scorpius was special then. He meant something different to Al, something that no one else had meant before. And even though it was unexpected and perhaps not who Harry would have chosen for his son, he couldn’t help but feel warmed by it. Harry knew the importance of friends. Ron and Hermione had saved his life, held him together during some of his darkest moments, helped him save the world. They were his family and had been almost from the moment they’d met. If Al had found a friendship like that with Scorpius, then he wasn’t going to let the fact Scorpius was a Malfoy be an issue. For anyone.

But then Harry saw something that might be an issue. He had been so stunned by his son’s behaviour, he almost missed Scorpius’s reaction to Al’s tackling embrace. Scorpius’s arms had come up to return Al’s hug –although really, what choice did he have in that, when it was either catch Al or be bowled over by him? – but his body seemed stiff and awkward. Whereas Al’s face could have lit the darkest night, Scorpius looked vaguely uncomfortable and almost displeased. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed thin.

Of course, they were twelve year old boys and there were dozens of reason Scorpius might not like being smothered by Albus right at that moment. It could be he disliked the display of affection or was embarrassed to have it witnessed by both of their fathers or it could have been something else entirely. But Harry wasn’t really interested in all the possible explanations. Harry was Al’s father and all he cared about was the fact that Scorpius didn’t seem to return Al’s enthusiasm. It was almost as though Scorpius didn’t realise quite how unusual, and therefore precious, that enthusiasm was.

But then the boys were pulling apart and Al still had that crazy grin on his face and Scorpius was smiling too and maybe that’s just how their friendship was. Either way, Al didn’t seem upset by it, so Harry shook off his own sense of disquiet and enjoyed the sight of his middle child happy and excited. Al had now seized Scorpius’s arm and was hauling him off towards his bedroom, Scorpius yelping out a “See you in three weeks, Dad!” before disappearing up the stairs.

“Well,” Harry said as he turned back to Malfoy. “That was something I haven’t seen before, Al so excited about a friend coming to visit. He’s usually pretty reserved.”

Malfoy gave him a doubtful look.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised though. Ever since they met, it seems like every other word out of Al’s mouth is Scorpius.”

“Really?” Draco asked, clearly surprised. “Scorpius barely talks about Al at all. I didn’t even know they were friends until he told me about your invitation to come here.”

Harry frowned at that, his stomach twisting unpleasantly. He searched Malfoy’s face for some sign that his words were meant to antagonise Harry of but he found nothing. No sneer, no cold amusement in the grey eyes. Malfoy appeared to simply be speaking the truth.

Harry’s frown deepened. “He probably didn’t want you to know he was friends with a Potter on top of being a Gryffindor.”

Malfoy’s lip curled slightly at that. “Please, don’t remind me. They really need to find a new sorting method. That hat is clearly getting senile in its old age. My only comfort is that everyone else in that tower is so simple, he’ll be able to rule over the lot of reckless idiots quite effortlessly.”

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry,” Malfoy drawled. “Present company included, of course.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Come on, Malfoy. Why don’t we have a cup of tea and I’ll tell you about all the security measures I have in place here.”

“Yes. Though, of course, I’m going to inspect the wards myself.”

“Jesus, Malfoy. I’m the head of the Auror department. I do know how to set wards, you know.”

Malfoy looked at him steadily, his expression serious. “Scorpius is at greater risk than the average child.”

“I know. It’s the same with my kids.”

“Your children get death threats from the families who lost loved ones in the war, do they?”

“No, but there has been more than one abduction attempt, not to mention the completely mad photographers who will go to any lengths to get ‘candid’ family shots. Trust me, I take their safety very seriously.”

Malfoy dropped his gaze for a moment. When he spoke, his voice held a note of pleading sincerity Harry had never in it heard before. “I’ve... I’ve never let Scorpius stay over somewhere like this before. He’s my son.”

Then Harry did something he had never done before, either. He put a hand on Malfoy’s shoulder. “I promise you, Malfoy. I’ll take good care of him.”

Malfoy nodded once. Harry let his hand drop and led the way to the kitchen.

Over the next three weeks, Harry felt like he was getting to know his middle child all over again. Al was like a different person around Scorpius. He laughed and joked and played in a way Harry had never seen him do before. And he talked. Merlin, how he talked! Harry was convinced Al had said more in the first day Scorpius spent with them than he had during the entire summer up to that point. There was something about the boy that seemed to open Al up, letting different aspects of his personality shine through. He was still Al, still serious and earnest and prone to putting others ahead of himself, but there was a lightness to him, a joy, that Harry hadn’t seen before.

It was both thrilling and a little worrying. It made Harry question what had been missing in Al’s life before, that this side of him had remained so hidden. He couldn’t help feeling he had let Al down in some important way. There was something he should have given him, done for him, some way that he had failed. And of course, he couldn’t entirely forget Malfoy’s words either, how Scorpius had never mentioned Al. Then there was the way Scorpius had tensed in Al’s embrace that first day, the look of annoyance on his face. As much pleasure as it brought him to see Al so happy and free, Harry couldn’t help but worry that it might not last. And if it didn’t, he knew Al would be crushed.

Summer 2021 (end of fourth year)

Harry had got used to Scorpius’s presence in their lives. More than that, he had actually started to like the kid. Scorpius was funny, in a dry, acerbic kind of way that his father had tried for but had never been able to achieve. Malfoy had always had too much emotion behind his jibes, getting a reaction had always meant too much to him. Scorpius, on the other hand, managed to deliver his abuse with a kind of disaffected boredom, as if he could barely be bothered insulting you. Of course, he almost always ruined the effect by grinning a second later. Despite the astounding similarity in appearances, Scorpius wasn’t nearly as malicious as his father had been, not by a long shot. In fact, he was quite warm. He seemed genuinely fond of Harry’s family – even Lily, who had recently developed a crush on the boy and shadowed Al and Scorpius at every opportunity. And while Scorpius still didn’t look at Al with that dopey puppy dog look that Al had when he looked at Scorpius, Harry trusted their friendship.

Which is why he was somewhat disturbed to observe a rather conspicuous strain between the two boys when Scorpius arrived at the cottage.

It had been apparent almost as soon as Scorpius and Malfoy stepped through the door. Al had come bounding down the stairs the way he always did but before he reached Scorpius, he suddenly pulled up, stopping short. Instead of throwing his arm his arms around his friend in his usual effusive greeting, Al just stood there awkwardly, his fingers twitching as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

“Hey Scorpius!” he said a little too loudly.

“Hi Al,” Scorpius responded and Harry thought he sounded... angry?

Harry shot a questioning look at Malfoy but Malfoy just raised a cool eyebrow in response. He didn’t know what was going on either, then.

Malfoy set about to leave almost immediately – he was unable to stay for his usual cup of tea due to a prior appointment. Harry was still caught up in trying to figure out what was happening between the boys and almost missed Malfoy saying he’d be back for Scorpius in two weeks.

“What? Oh, you’re not staying til the end of the month then?” Harry asked.

Rather tactlessly, apparently, as everyone suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“No. Sorry, Mr Potter, I assumed Al told you. I have to go back for the twenty-second. It’s my girlfriend’s birthday.”

“You have a girlfriend?” he asked, taken aback, and Scorpius blushed.

Harry didn’t know why he was so surprised. James had had his first girlfriend when he was twelve and he knew Albus had been seeing a girl in Slytherin, Ella Kenney, on and off for the last year. But somehow he hadn’t thought of Scorpius dating.

“You needn’t act so astounded, Potter,” Draco drawled. “We Malfoys are a highly desirable lot. Scorpius has been getting owls from girls all summer.”

“You have?” Albus said incredulously.

Scorpius blushed an even deeper shade of red and looked down at his feet. “Just a few.”

“From who?”

There was a tone in Al’s voice that bordered on accusation. Scorpius stiffened visibly and his bashful look was quickly replaced by something tight and defiant.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I want to know.”

Scorpius shot a meaningful look at Al and nodded towards Harry and Draco. “Let’s talk about it later.”

“But –

“Later.”

Malfoy gave Scorpius a hug and a kiss on the top of his head and then he was on his way. Harry accompanied him outside, pacing around the property with Malfoy as he double-checked the wards before leaving. When Harry got back, the boys were already holed up in Al’s room, Lily and her friend Anna lurking around the closed door, hoping to be invited in.

At dinner that night, things still seemed off between the boys. Al was uncharacteristically quiet, or rather, he was characteristically quiet, which was unusual when Scorpius was around. In fact, he was barely even looking at his friend. Instead, he picked morosely at his food and grunted whenever Scorpius made attempts at conversation. For his part, Scorpius kept trying to talk to Albus, a puzzled frown on his face when his attempts failed. Lily, of course, was only too happy to fill in the silences and seemed thrilled to have Scorpius’s attention.

Things were no better the next day, with breakfast every bit as painful as dinner had been. And then later that afternoon, Harry stumbled across the boys in the middle of an argument. They had all decided to go down to the beach, he, Lily and Anna, James and his friend Toby, Al and Scorpius. The others were already down there. Al and Scorpius had lingered behind, saying they’d be down in a minute. Harry had been half-way to the water when he realised he’d forgotten his towel.

He found it on the kitchen table where he left it. He was just about to go back out when he heard the boys’ voices drifting in from the other room.

“What’s wrong with you?” That was Scorpius, sounding irritated, his words sharp and loud.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Al’s tone was sullen. Harry could almost see the scowl on his son’s face.

“Al, you’ve barely said two words to me since I got here.”

There was a long silence, loaded and uncomfortable. Even from the other side of the door, Harry could feel the tension in the room.

“Do you not want me here?” Scorpius asked.

“Of course I want you here. I invited you, didn’t I?”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There is no problem!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Another lengthy silence. Al would be staring at his feet now, arms crossed. Harry was well-familiar with Al’s stonewalling routine.

“Merlin. I don’t know how to talk to you when you’re like this. Look, I’m going down to the beach with James and Toby. You come find me when you’re done having your little hissy fit or whatever this is.”

He heard the door open and close, presumably Scorpius leaving.

A moment later, Al came into the kitchen. He looked surprised when he saw Harry. “Dad! I thought you were down at the beach.”

Al’s eyes looked a bit too bright and his lips were set in a thin line.

Harry forced a casual note in his voice, trying not to let on that he had overheard the argument. He was sure Al would be embarrassed if he knew. “I was. I just came back for my towel. You and Scorpius coming?”

“Scorpius just went down. I’m... I’ll be there in a minute. I just –” Al broke off, blinking rapidly for a second and grimacing down at the floor.

“You okay, Al?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” his son said, his tight voice belying his words. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Fifteen minutes later, Al joined them on the beach. He spread his towel out next to Scorpius’s and flopped down with his usual lack of grace. Harry watched as surreptitiously as he could. He saw Scorpius turn towards Al, a questioning look on his face. Al just shook his head once, a small movement. Then he smiled, a little sheepish and a lot hopeful and Scorpius whacked him playfully up the back of the head and they both laughed and Harry breathed a small sigh of relief.

He knew ups and downs were just a part of friendship but it was still hard to watch your own children go through them.

Harry loved having a full house. It always made him feel content, having his family around him, hearing the sounds of them going about their lives. He wished Ginny were there to share it with him. It was always bittersweet, his vacation with his children. He relished the chance to be alone with them and he knew Ginny appreciated the break but it was always around this point, about a week and half in, that he started to really miss the sweet smell and soft arms of his wife, her gentle smiles and not so gentle humour. His fiery, passionate Ginny. Merlin, he adored her. It was a beautiful life they had built together and Harry loved it.

Harry walked by Lily’s room, heard the giggles and small shrieks that seemed to come to thirteen year old girls as readily as breathing. He had a sudden, vivid memory of his fourth year at Hogwarts, how every girl in the school had seemed to giggle constantly once the Yule Ball had been announced. Merlin, what a shit year that had been, even leaving Voldemort aside. He grimaced at the memory of his attempt at asking Cho to be his date and again at the thought of his awkward stumbling around the dance floor with Parvati. Yes, he was very grateful to have those days behind him.

James’ room was quiet. He and Toby were down on the beach. Harry suspected they were smoking cigarettes and drinking Firewhisky but he wasn’t going to make an issue of it. They were seventeen after all. This was probably the last year James would be joining them at the cottage. He’d be going into seventh year in September. By next summer, he might even be working, and it would take a while before he would have the luxury of taking lengthy holidays the way Harry did.

Al’s room was decidedly less quiet. Even through the closed door, Harry could hear angry voices. Al and Scorpius were arguing.

“I still don’t see why you have to go.”

“Al.”

“What? Just because she asked you to go doesn’t mean you have to.”

“It’s not like she asked me just so I couldn’t be here with you. It’s her birthday, Al.”

“So?”

“So, she’s my girlfriend and I have to be there.”

“Whatever. She probably won’t even notice if you’re not there. She’s always too busy gossiping with her little friends.”

“Half of her friends are your cousins, you arse! Look, I know you’re disappointed I can’t stay the whole three weeks –”

“Who said I’m disappointed? I just think it’s pathetic how she’s got you at her beck and call. Merlin forbid you spend five minutes with anybody else.”

“For fuck’s sake, what is it with you and Katie?”

“Nothing. I just don’t like the way she treats you. And I don’t like that you let her get away with it.”

“Katie treats me fine. She’s my girlfriend. I’m supposed to help her when she needs it. We’re supposed to spend time together. Maybe it just looks weird to you because you’re used to that half-arsed, sham of a relationship you have with Ella.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You know, Al, I was perfectly fine on my own. You were the one who told me to get a girlfriend. In fact, as I recall, you and Rose practically forced me and Katie into our first date, abandoning us at the Three Broomsticks without even bothering to make up a believable excuse!”

“I know! I know that!”

“So then, what is going on?”

“I told you it’s nothing.”

“For fuck’s sake –”

“Look, maybe when I told you I thought you should date Katie, I didn’t really think about what it would be like. Maybe I didn’t really think about how much time you would be spending with her, how much you’d talk about her, how you’d always be touching her, all lovey and crap.”

“What did you think I would do with a girlfriend? Ignore her and treat her like shit?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, okay? I just didn’t think it would be like this. That she’d always be there, in the way. She’s always with you. Just there, always, with you.”

There was a long silence then. When Scorpius spoke again, his voice was low and tight.

“Al. This was your idea. This is what you wanted.”

“I know. But...”

“But what?” More silence. “What?”

“Maybe I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?”

“About all of it.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

“Fuck, Al.” Scorpius sounded exasperated, angry even. “You’re such a fucking arse.”

There was something in the exchange that Harry wasn’t getting but he understood well enough when he heard the sound of a hand striking a body, the sound of someone slamming into a wall. There was a groan and some scuffling, the noisy clatter of things being knocked over. The boys were fighting.

Harry debated going in and breaking them up but decided against it. Obviously they had things they needed to work out. Sometimes a physical altercation was the best way to do that. They’d get it out of their systems and then they’d be able to see straight again. Harry had often thought he and Ron would have had a much easier time of it over the years if there had been a few less angry silences and a few more black eyes.

There was more crashing about, another low groan, and he heard a soft “fuck” but whether it was Al or Scorpius, he couldn’t tell. Shaking his head, Harry made his way down the hall to his own room. Hopefully, come the morning, they’d have worked it all out without tearing the whole place down.

When the boys appeared for breakfast the next day, Harry was relieved to see their injuries weren’t nearly as bad as he had feared. Al had a long scratch down the side of his neck and seemed to be holding his arm on a bit of strange angle – presumably he’d knocked his shoulder during the fighting. Scorpius had a ring of small bruises around his right forearm where Albus had apparently grabbed him a little too roughly and his lips looked puffy but they weren’t split and Harry counted himself lucky for that. At least Malfoy wouldn’t kill him. If he’d arrived to find Scorpius with a bloody mouth, the boy would probably never be allowed to visit again.

Contrary to Harry’s expectations, however, their tussle seemed to have done nothing to relieve the tension between the two of them. If anything, it was worse. They ate their breakfast in absolute silence, responding neither to Lily’s attempts at conversation nor James’s taunts about their sullenness. Al kept his eyes glued to his plate the whole time. Scorpius looked up from his food every now and then to shoot Al a quick, anxious glance. After breakfast, all the kids went down to the beach. When Harry walked down to check on them a few hours later, he noticed Al and Scorpius were sitting on opposite sides of the group, as many bodies in between them as possible.