Work Text:
***
Albus rested his head in his hands, running his fingers through the blonde hairs that were covering Scorpius' sleeping eyes. He looked so pale and unwell, but so peaceful, in his slumber, and Albus almost forgot the reason they were in St. Mungo's at all as he stood to greet Draco Malfoy. It was a swift movement as Draco spun into the room. "What happened?" Draco demanded to know, his voice rushed, and his tone laced with concern.
"Scorpius - he just - he collapsed-" Albus shuffled where he stood, looking down at his feet with a scrunched-up expression printed on his face. He looked as pale and unruly as Scorpius did, and Draco found himself straining his heart to empathise with him. “I don’t – nobody knows what happened – he just fell to the floor once we got to – to our dorm and I - ran to get help.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Draco lifted his hand up to Albus’ shoulder and gave it a small squeeze; the stress that was exuberating from him was contagious, and Draco couldn’t afford to lose his grounding in a situation like this. Not in this hospital. Not when his son needed him. “It sounds like you did the right thing to help him.”
Albus shook his head, and closed his eyes tightly, letting the tears fall from them freely. He was holding Scorpius' hand so tightly, their wrists intertwined so it was difficult to work out whose was whose. Draco did his best to ignore the scars that donned them both from Delphi’s spell. He whimpered, “I left him alone-“
“You got him the help he needed.”
“I left him-“
“Albus,” Draco’s voice was as mellow and gentle as he could muster under the stress, his hands steady as he put them up in front of the small Potter boy. “You got help," he said, in such a simple way, one that made Albus’ breathing level out. “Are – are you okay?” He did his best to sound genuine.
“No,” Albus responded, immediately. While Draco appreciated the honesty, he found that the answer left him with little to work with. People weren’t normally upfront about how they were feeling, so he was unprepared for that. He nodded, hoping that would suffice. Albus turned back to Scorpius, lacing his fingers back into his and sitting down on the chair beside him. Though he knew that the pair of them had a deep connection, seeing the Potter boy look so vulnerable because of his son made his heart strain in a way he couldn’t explain. “They think it’s the Cruciatus curse.”
At hearing that, Draco let out a breath. He had suspected that to be the case since the first moment Professor McGonagall sent an owl to Malfoy Manor. It didn’t come as a shock to him, but it was a painful reminder that his son had been put through the worst possible form of torture, nonetheless. He couldn’t find any words to reply with, so pushed his head into a nod, hoping - once again - that it would suffice.
“The Healers gave him a sleeping draught to – to ease his pain-“ Albus said, in such a small voice that the elder Slytherin struggled to hear him.
“Ah, Mr. Malfoy," the voice of one of the Healers distracted Draco away from Albus, his ears pricking as he realised who she was. “I am glad you were able to make it.” The words echoed in his head for a moment, and then he blinked himself out of the flashback. “How are you feeling-“
“Healer Lundo," Draco greeted her, realising there was a lag between her question and his response. He stammered slightly, doing his best to keep his posture straight. “How is he – how is my son?”
“Scorpius is reacting well to the treatment," she told him. “As you know, the Cruciatus curse is a difficult one to counter; the ramifications of using this spell are great," she said, as if Draco was unaware, “–especially on a child," she added, making his mouth dry.
“I – I understand-“
“But, Scorpius is reacting well to the treatment," she reaffirmed. “And, I am confident that he will make a strong recovery.” She noticed the way his shoulders dropped, his eyebrows following in suit. “He is going to make a recovery from this," she told him, gentler still. She needed that to be heard by him.
Her voice didn’t sound like it had the last time Draco had heard it: there was hope laced in it now. With Astoria, there had been no hope. Her voice then, rather, had been laced with sympathy, and, while there was sympathy and pity within her tone now, she was telling him that Scorpius was going to be alright.
“Am I able to stay?” He asked, choking the words out and looking over to Albus, who had shuffled into the bed beside Scorpius now, resting his head on his son’s chest, and encasing Scorpius in his arms. Healer Lundo mirrored his glare before turning back to Draco. “Only – I know the policy is-“
“One person per patient," she nodded, confirming what he suspected. “But – yes," she smiled, kindly. “You may stay with your son," she said, "and his – friend is welcome to, too.”
Draco noticed the knowing pause before the word ‘friend’ and nodded, confirming whatever it was that she was thinking. “Thank you," he said. “Once again, you have taken great care of my family. I don’t know how I will ever repay you.”
“It is my job, Mr. Malfoy," she told him, bowing her head to him slightly. “And there is nothing to repay me for. I am happy to help.”
Draco appreciated the genuine kindness that came through in her voice. She bid him a good night and left him alone with his thoughts. He contemplated sitting at Scorpius’ bedside once again, but opted against it, offering Albus some alone time with his son instead. He gave Albus a light tap on the shoulder and told him that he would be sitting outside of the ward if he needed anything, or if he needed a break, despite knowing that he was not going to leave Scorpius alone again even if he absolutely needed to. Albus smiled in his direction, and then lay back down beside Scorpius, running his finger across his cheek in a swirling motion. It was gentle, and it was done with love, and Draco knew that Scorpius was in safe hands on the ward.
He rested his head against the wall of the waiting room, closing his eyes momentarily. It wasn’t for a few hours that he stirred slightly, opening his eyes to find the Head of the Auror office standing over him, narrowing his gaze in Draco’s direction and folding his arms across himself.
"Evening, Draco," Harry greeted him with a light smile, clearing his throat as he approached him. Draco startled once the realisation sank in that Harry Potter was standing in front of him, sitting up in his seat and brushing himself down, tightening his hair and doing his best to make himself look presentable. "I was just popping by to pick up Albus. Professor McGonagall informs me that they have an exam this morning and she wants him to sit it well-rested.”
Draco looked at Harry with a narrow gaze, scrunching his face up.
"Evening, Potter. That won’t be an easy task," he responded in his usual placid, deepened tone. “I don’t believe Albus will be going anywhere," he tilted his head, signalling toward the ward where Scorpius' bed was. "It would appear that your son has made himself rather at home."
Harry looked at the scene with a soft expression, realising that Draco was, indeed, correct about that task not being a simple one; Albus' head was resting on Scorpius' chest, his arm draped around the other boy's waist in a delicate manner. His legs were scrunched up towards his waist. With the way that Albus was lying next to Scorpius, Harry couldn't help but think they fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He swallowed his want to wake Albus up and turned back to Draco.
He, once again, cleared his throat.
"How long have they been laid like that?" He asked, sitting down on the seat opposite Draco in the waiting room.
"Since before I got here, apparently."
"And when did you get here?"
"About twelve hours ago now." Draco nodded, solemnly, staring at the clock on the wall with equal shock that plastered on Harry’s face. “I know. I fell asleep out here.”
He knew it was insane to say aloud, and it was crazier that it was true considering he hadn’t realised the time, but he had been sat in the exact same position since the beginning of the night - since Scorpius was admitted into St. Mungo's.
“I didn’t know Albus had been here that long either," Harry said, gritting his teeth. Hogwarts hadn’t told him anything until just an hour ago, and he couldn’t get away from work until just now. He let out a breath, noticing that Draco’s eyes were plagued by dark circles. “You don’t expect me to believe you’ve really slept, do you?” He asked, folding his arms across himself. He was an Auror - and he was a bloody good one at that. There was no way he was going to believe that Draco had slept when he looked as unruly and exhausted as he did."You haven't been home?" Harry felt as though it was a stupid question, and he felt as though he knew what Draco's response was going to be. But the other man didn't respond with a sarcastic, dull comment about how that fact was obvious and, instead, just shook his head. "Quite frankly, Draco, you look like you could do with some rest," he tried to be polite, "don't you think you should go-"
"I'm not leaving my son." It was a fast-paced response, and it was a thorough and precise statement. “And I don’t believe your son will either.”
Harry understood completely. After all they had just been through, he couldn't blame Draco for not wanting to let Scorpius go out of his sight again. He understood whole-heartedly: he, too, didn't want to let Albus out of his sight again, out of pure fear that he'd lose him again. And, of course, he knew that Albus was very unlikely to leave the hospital, but he and Professor McGonagall knew it was worth even a small shot.
"Do we know why he collapsed?" Again, it felt like a ridiculous question to ask when the answer seemed obvious to Harry, but Draco didn't bite at it. He looked physically exhausted, and Harry wasn't surprised after what he had just told him. "Do the Healers believe this is the effects of the Cruci-"
"Yes-" Draco cut him off, unable to hear the end of that question - unable to face the reality of what his son had experienced. He shuddered, his face paling beyond what Harry thought was possible. It was a fact that the Malfoy family genetics ran deep in their genealogy, and he knew that the ghostly tone of their skin was hereditary, but Draco was whiter than Harry had ever seen anyone go before, and it wasn't a good look. He looked unruly. Completely unruly. "They believe it is the effect of the curse, yes."
"I'm sorry, Draco." Harry avoided the other man's gaze, looking down at his feet. If he was paying more attention, he would know that Draco was not looking in his direction at all. But he wasn't. "I can't imagine this is easy for you."
"No," Draco shuffled in his seat, placing his face into his hands. He said nothing more, and Harry found himself struggling to come up with something to say himself. The pause was uncomfortable, and Harry wished more than anything that his brain would engage to say something - anything. Draco broke the silence before Harry could say anything to make the situation awkward. "Being back here - it brings back the memories of Astoria," he said, his voice emotionless and bland. Harry figured the stress was all too much, and wished he could do something to help. “That’s what I keep thinking about." He lifted his head up. “Astoria. And the loss of Astoria. In this very hospital.”
Again, Harry didn't know what to say; St. Mungo's was a haunting place at the best of times, but he couldn't imagine having to sit there after watching someone you love deteriorate and die in front of your eyes. "I'm sorry, Draco." Was all he could muster.
"And, now, I could lose my son."
"Scorpius is strong-"
"Scorpius shouldn't have to be strong," Draco cut him off before he could finish, with little effort. "He is fourteen."
Harry nodded, knowing that feeling all too well. He had thought the very same about Albus. And about Scorpius, in extension. He shuddered slightly, wracking his brain for something to reply with. Draco was right. Their sons had saved the world, and Scorpius was paying a heavy price: they all were.
"Do you think you ought to go home?" He asked, again. "I'm not saying that to be rude, Draco," he told him. "Only - I can stay for the night. I can watch over them both. I can't imagine Albus is about to leave Scorpius anyway - like you say." He forced a small smile onto his face, confirming to Draco that he was aware his trip was a wasted one. "I can explain to Ginny that I was needed here." He shrugged his shoulder. “They won’t be on their own.” He said. “Scorpius - won’t be on his own.”
"I couldn't leave-"
"Scorpius has Albus here," Harry said. "And I think you may be right about it being impossible to separate the two of them. I don't think I'd have any power over convincing Albus to go back to school," he muttered on, making Draco's face concoct into a small smile. "I can stay," he re-affirmed, "so that they’re not alone.”
Draco paused momentarily. And then swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Harry Potter was right. He should go home. He should get some rest so that he could be fresh when he next sees Scorpius. "Alright." He stood, unfolding his arms. "If anything changes, owl me, Harry." He flinched as the name came out of his mouth - it sounding too effortless coming from him.
"I will, Draco," Harry responded, also in shock at not being referred to as 'Potter' but knowing now wasn't the time to mention it. "You have my word."
"Thank you," he bowed his head. "Anything at all-"
"If anything happens, even the smallest thing, I will send my owl," Harry cut him off. "He's got Albus here. No offence but even you – his dad – can’t contend with that."
Draco let that sink into his head. Harry was right. Scorpius would want Albus there more than anyone else, even more than him, so it was a fair comment. And it made him feel more content with his decision to go home. He said goodbye to Harry, and looked towards Albus and Scorpius one last time. They were both sleeping peacefully in one another's arms. And it was a warming sight.
Harry watched as he walked out of the hospital, making himself comfortable in the seat that Draco had been keeping warm before him. He looked into the ward, smiling. Albus was still cradled around Scorpius' slender frame, his breaths small and comfortable in his best friend's arms. If what Draco had told Harry was true, Albus hadn't moved since arriving at the hospital. He stood back up within a moment, walking into the ward as quietly as possible, realising he should let Scorpius know that his dad had gone home if he could.
Albus lifted his head slightly at the sound of footsteps hovering around them both, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. He cleared his throat, whispering in a dull tone, “I’m sorry-“ He coughed, his face paling. Harry flinched slightly. “Dad?” He sat up, quickly, his face blushing a bright tone of red.
“Hi, Albus," Harry felt a small smile form on his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I thought you were a Healer coming to tell me to go home,” Albus stirred, clicking his fingers. “That’s – that’s not why you’re here, is it?” He asked, quickly, his voice gushing. “I’m not leaving him-“
“That’s not why I’m here, no," Harry jumped in and explained as soon as Albus allowed. “I did come here to get you but – I can see you’re not coming with me no matter what I say," his cheeks brimmed. “And that’s okay, don’t worry," he said, putting his hands up in surrender before Albus could argue anything. “Draco has gone home for the night to get some rest. I offered to supervise the two of you, I was just going to let Scorpius know.”
Albus nodded, letting all of that information sink in. “He’s out for the count," Albus said, his finger delicately brushing the fringe that had fallen in front of Scorpius’ eyes away. “They gave him a sleeping draught.”
“I know.”
“It was terrifying, dad," Albus looked at him with wide, pitiful eyes. “He just – collapsed.”
Harry put his hand up to his chin. “The Cruciatus curse and its effects are – unpleasant," he told him. “Do you – think you could go back to sleep?” Harry asked. “You want to be fresh in case he wakes up.”
Albus contemplated his response. “I think I could.” He couldn’t ignore the heaviness of his eyes no matter how hard he tried. “Am I okay to-“
“You can sleep there," Harry cut in. “If any Healers come in, I will have a chat with them," he smiled. “You both look – comfortable.” He did his best not to show how warm his heart was at the sight, not wanting to make Albus feel uncomfortable. He knew that Scorpius mattered to him - Albus had told him so.
Albus thanked his dad with a polite smile and shuffled back down into Scorpius’ hold, closing his eyes almost immediately. It didn’t take long for him to start snoring as he so often did, and Harry couldn’t help but grin at the sight and sound. His son felt so at home in Scorpius’ arms, it was pleasant to see – even if the reasons behind them being there were unpleasant in themselves. He sat back down on the seat beside the bed and pulled out his wand, whispering a light ‘Accio’ towards the newspapers cascaded around the room.
It mustn’t have been an hour into his reading until a small groan coming from the hospital bed pricked his ears alert once more. He sat up, murmuring in a small voice, “Albus?”
“Mr. – Mr. Potter-“ It wasn’t Albus’ voice that spoke, which startled Harry slightly: it was Scorpius’. It was hoarse and small, but it was audible. Harry blinked, forcing a smile onto his face so he didn’t worry the poor boy, who looked so frail and small beside his son.
“Hello, Scorpius," he said, warmly. “Are you feeling alright?” He didn’t know how he had woken up after taking such a strong dose of the sleeping draught, but he wasn’t going to worry about that. Not when Scorpius looked so scared and confused - like a deer in headlights.
“Whe – where’s my dad?”
"He - has gone home." Harry told him, in a gentle and humble tone. Scorpius didn't look at him, he just simply nodded. "If he had known you were going to wake up, I'm sure he would have stayed longer." He tried to explain, but Scorpius didn't move or acknowledge the words. He stared blankly down at Albus, who was sleeping on top of him still. "Do you want me to wake him? To bring him back? I could send him an owl-"
“No, Sir," Scorpius shook his head faster than he had moved in a while, his vision blurring slightly. Before Harry could tell him to call him 'Harry', Scorpius broke the silence again. "He should - sleep," he choked out, his voice hoarse. He stirred slightly, doing his best not to wake Albus.
Albus remained fast asleep beside Scorpius, and Harry resented the fact that his son was such a heavy sleeper in this very moment. He hadn’t thought about the fact that Scorpius could awake so soon – given the circumstances. Scorpius' eyes pricked with tears as Harry placed a conjured cup of hot chocolate on the side for him. He gave it a stir, using his wand to add some more cream to the top of the beverage. Scorpius didn't move his gaze away from Albus, running his hands through his brunette curls and taking in his familiar scent to try and ground him.
"How - are you feeling?" Harry knew it was a ridiculous question. He'd been on the receiving end of it in the past, and it was a stupid, frustrating question. Scorpius remained silent. "It's a horrible feeling." He broke the silence once again. "I don't know why I asked that question - I hated when people asked me that. It's impossible to explain to those that have never experienced a pain like it." He tugged at the sleeve of his suit.
"Everything went so cold-" Scorpius said. "That's all I can remember."
Harry wasn't sure if he meant the day Delphini Riddle tortured him, or the faint from a few hours ago, but he was glad the boy was talking to him because it meant he was fully conscious - that was a good sign.
"Did my dad say-"
"He didn't want to leave you," Harry interrupted, awkwardly. If he was being completely honest, he hadn’t prepared to speak to Scorpius at all. He had imagined the curse would have taken everything out of him – he remembered the experience all too well. He’d thought that he would have just slept through the night. "You could wake Albus if-"
Again, Scorpius shook his head. “He hasn’t slept properly for over a week. He - has nightmares," he murmured, his voice so small that it was barely audible to the older Potter. Harry looked to his son then, noticing that he was in a deep, deep sleep now. He watched as his chest rose and fell and felt at ease seeing his breaths leave his body. “You – don’t have to talk to me if you - don’t want to.”
Harry looked back up at Scorpius then, narrowly. It was said in such a dull way. He shuffled where he sat once more, clearing his throat. “I’m not trying to brush you off," he said, doing his best to explain. “Sorry.” He swallowed. “I just thought you would want your dad here – or Albus.” Scorpius stared blankly at him, saying nothing more. He played with Albus’ curls in his hands, his fingers delicately dancing through his son’s hair like they had done it before. “I know I – I haven’t been the best to you," he broke the silence. “I wanted to apologise before now but there – never seemed to be a right time," he chewed his thumb. “I am sorry for separating the two of you. Albus told me you were important to him and I – didn’t listen to him.”
Scorpius wasn’t sure if now was a good time for them to be having this conversation because he wasn’t very good at understanding social etiquette, but it seemed Harry wasn’t either. He wasn’t going to stop him. His mind was aching, sure, but he wasn’t about to ask for silence. He thought having that might make him feel worse: silence. That’s all he could remember from the moment Delphi cursed him: silence. And Albus’ desperate, pleading screams for her to stop. He shuddered at the memory, pushing it back out of his mind and looking down at Albus. He watched as the elder man struggled to find the right words, and then opted to speak himself, “being without Albus was the hardest thing I’ve had to do.”
Upon hearing that, Harry felt his heart snap. He was looking at a fourteen-year-old boy that had lost his mother and had been tortured using the Cruciatus curse, and he had just told him that being without Albus was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. And that had only happened because of him. He had kept the two of them apart; a wash of guilt flooded over him as he sat upwards in the seat beside the hospital bed, his voice breaking, “I am sorry, Scorpius," Harry said. “I didn’t know that - I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t know," he added, and then fumbled over the words. That wasn’t true. He did know. He had known because Albus had told him and he just – hadn’t listened. “I shouldn’t have kept Albus from you.”
“It’s okay," he shrugged, wincing as pain crushed his lung. It was such an easy sentence to say, but he knew Scorpius didn’t really mean it. The way he had treated him was far from okay, and he knew that. He needed Scorpius to know that, too, if he didn’t.
“It’s not okay," Harry shook his head. “I was unfair. I judged you because of my own insecurities and that is never okay to do. It was never right - I was never right," he told him, knowing now that this was the wrong time to have this conversation. Scorpius’ face had paled considerably, and he looked as though he was shaking – freezing. He cuddled into Albus more, lifting his friend’s arm over his torso like a blanket. “I couldn’t have gotten through my time at school without Ron and Hermione," he said, noticing how the blonde boy looked at him with glazed over eyes. Right there in the bed, though, Harry didn’t see the relationship he had with Ron and Hermione at all; he saw the relationship they had with one another – Ron and Hermione. He broke the silence again. “After my wife, Ginny, Albus' mum, opened the Chamber of Secrets in her first year at Hogwarts, nobody spoke to her at all," he told Scorpius. “I didn’t realise it at the time, but she told me that I helped her through the unimaginable at her lowest point just by being kind to her.”
Scorpius was glaring at the Boy-Who-Lived with a blank, emotionless expression, clearly confused about the relevance of what he was saying.
“I think you did the same for Albus in his darkest time," he explained the best he could, the words being all jumbled up in his head. “Your kindness – your friendship – it helped him - it saved him. Your-”
“Love," Scorpius said, making Harry freeze.
“Love," Harry reciprocated, nodding his head in agreement. “Your love," he smiled. “The two of you, you have each other. And that’s a wonderful thing, Scorpius.”
"Delphi-" Harry chewed the inside of his mouth at the mention of her name, shuddering slightly at the memory of her crazed, lost eyes. He couldn't shake the thought that that was how Albus could have ended up without Scorpius - without the boy that sat in front of him looking so broken now. "Delphi mentioned that - that Albus' weakness was love," Scorpius murmured, unsure whether he should be mentioning that or not.
"She did," Harry nodded, confirming that he was already aware of that fact. Scorpius felt his shoulders relax at that confirmation. "When she was torturing you, Scorpius, I imagine that your love for Albus and his for you - I imagine that helped to ease some of your suffering." He wasn't sure why he said that, but he did. "Only - I know your injuries haven't been as severe as they ought to have been. Delphi had - she had the intent there to cause lifelong injuries-"
Scorpius avoided his eye contact and continued to look down at Albus, continuing to run his hand through his curls in a soothing way - soothing for both Albus and him. He cleared his throat, "I think I knew that already," he said. "Your mother's love saved you-" he muttered, "-from the Killing curse-" he rubbed his hands together. "And - Albus saved me from the Torturing curse." Harry nodded in agreement. It was so eloquently put, and it was so honest to hear aloud. Scorpius fidgeted. "Did - did you suffer with severe injuries-"
"I did," Harry nodded. "I was in hospital for weeks following that day at the graveyard. It's not really written about in the history books because it doesn't read as very heroic but - I spent three months recuperating from the Cruciatus curse." He shrugged his shoulders as if what he was saying was nothing. Of course, Scorpius knew of all of Harry Potter's trials throughout life, but he wasn't aware of this. "I think it may have taken a little longer for me because I was alone. All of my friends had gone back home for the Summer." He scratched the back of his head. "But you have Albus here." He signalled down to Albus, whose soft features were still laying atop of Scorpius. "How - how are you feeling about going back to Hogwarts?" He opted to change the subject, noticing how stiff and uncomfortable the Malfoy boy had become. He was rocking slightly side-to-side.
Scorpius thought about his answer carefully, digging his nail into his finger. He looked up to Harry briefly before dropping his gaze back to Albus. "I like school." It was a simple response, and Harry had expected it.
"I hear you're top of all your classes," he responded with a smile. He'd heard that from two different people rather distinctly. First, Albus, who had told his father that Scorpius would help with his schoolwork when he was struggling to try and convince him that his best friend was a good influence on him. And, second, Rose, who was forever ranting about not managing to top his grades, which made Ron and Hermione laugh. "Do you have a favourite lesson?"
"I like Potions," he replied, basically. There was very little energy in his voice, and Harry understood why. It was difficult to find energy after a Cruciatus curse. It was hard to speak at all, so Scorpius was doing well for someone that Draco described as being socially awkward. "And Muggle Studies," he added. "Albus - Albus is really good at Potions."
Harry couldn't help but smile at Scorpius' tone growing softer at the mention of his son, "so I hear."
"He gets teased a lot because of it - because of his name," Scorpius said, and it was the first time Harry was hearing of that. He let out a breath, going to speak before being cut off by the blonde again. "But - I think Severus Snape would be pleased to - to hear how good Albus is at Potions."
Harry nodded. "I agree," Harry noted. “Severus Snape was an avid and brilliant potioneer.” He sat back in the seat beside the bed. “I know his true interest was always Dark Arts but – his Potions knowledge was incredible," he smiled, "much like yours and Albus’ in Godric’s Hollow.”
“That was all Albus.”
“That’s not what Albus says. He said you did it together - that the two of you put your brains together to come up with it.” Harry’s eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead. “He says you help him a lot at school, too," he said, "because you actually like going, he says.”
"I do like school," Scorpius mentioned, making the Potter man's eyebrows furrow. "But - it's hard when Albus - when Albus doesn't."
Harry bit his lip, trying to ignore how much Scorpius was stuttering. He knew drawing attention to something like that would only make it worse, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. "I know the other students aren't very pleasant towards the pair of you," he sighed, wishing that weren't true more than anything. "I know they call you names and say horrid things to you both."
Scorpius shuddered at the mention of the name-calling, and Harry realised how deep that issue ran in that moment. He shuffled where he sat, tugging at his sleeve in the same way that Scorpius was.
“I was called names too," he said. “In my second year specifically," he told him. “I was labeled the ‘Heir of Slytherin’, so I know a little about being on the receiving end of-” He stopped himself, realising he was talking about himself too much. Scorpius blinked, realising where Albus got that from now. “I can’t imagine it’s nice being called the ‘Son of Voldemort’," he said. “Especially when it’s not true," he chewed his lip. “I am sorry I ever doubted your parentage.” Scorpius offered a small smile. "I won't let anyone say anything to either of you when you return," Harry promised, blindly. "I've already spoken to-"
"It's not just that, Mr. Potter," Scorpius said, making Harry pause in his tracks. "But - it's not my place to say-"
"Albus has spoken to me, Scorpius," Harry told him, feeling like it was important that he knew that. “I know Albus has - been feeling like he has to follow in my footsteps. I know being my son hasn't been the easiest for him. I know because Albus has spoken to me." Harry did his best to reassure him. "You haven't stepped over any of his boundaries in saying any of this."
Scorpius relaxed once again at hearing that. He still looked insanely pale, and Harry couldn't help but feel guilty about the whole thing. He looked to Albus, watching as he stirred a little in his sleep.
"Thank you for being there for him-" Harry blurted out, unable to hold back the urge as he stared at how soft Scorpius' eyes were looking at Albus, "-at a time when he felt so alone." He added. "You've been a wonderful friend to him."
Scorpius scrunched his nose up at hearing that, his eyes welling slightly as he turned his neck to look at Harry Potter.
"I can see how much you care for him - how much you care for each other." He pursed his lips together. "Now." He added. “I can see that now.”
"He's my friend." Scorpius placed his hand on top of Albus' and stoked his skin across his, which made the smaller boy shuffle in his slumber. "Albus is my best friend."
Harry's cheeks were starting to ache at how much he was grinning at the two of them: he wasn't sure if they were oblivious, or not. He couldn't work out if either Albus or Scorpius knew that there was more there than just friendship or not, but he wasn't going to be the one to ask.
"And you are his," Harry said, simply, feeling like the words didn't hold enough weight for how much they meant to one another but working with it all the same. "The - love you share, it's strong. And - and that's a very good thing."
He looked at Scorpius then and saw so much of himself in him: the loss of a parent for one, but also the genuine want to support his loved ones - to support Albus. It was the same thing Harry had wanted to do for Ron and Hermione, and later Ginny. It was all he ever wanted. He was the 'Heir of Slytherin' who just wanted to support his friends. And Scorpius was the 'Son of Voldemort' that just wanted to support Harry's son.
“I am going to go and owl your dad-” Harry said, standing up. He needed a moment to himself: he needed to stop the thoughts that were plaguing his mind, and that was a good escape. Scorpius nodded, nestling his face back into Albus. When Harry returned, he found the two boys in the same position. He sat to the side slightly, smiling as Albus rocked in his sleep. It wasn’t long until he was awoken from his small sleep by the sound of his son’s voice.
"Scorpius?" Albus' eyes opened slowly, his squint painful as he coughed himself awake, straining his neck to look at his best friend with a smile. "Are you okay?" He asked, lifting his hand up to Scorpius' cheek. "You're looking a little brighter already," he smiled, his face inches away from Scorpius' as he assessed the paleness of his skin. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his dad, and his cheeks flushed bright red. He shuffled on top of Scorpius, moving to the side slightly. "Hi, dad," he tried to mask his embarrassment.
"Hello."
"You said you'd - wake me if Scorpius woke-"
"You were sleeping," Scorpius replied, genuinely. Albus stared at him with glistening eyes, clearing his throat slightly.
"Yes," Harry agreed. "You were sleeping very soundly," he said. "On top of Scorpius."
Albus flushed a deeper tone of red - one even James Sirius would envy as a die-hard Gryffindor. He didn't know why his dad felt that he needed to add the last part, but he hated that he had all the same.
"How long have you been awake?" Albus managed to ask, focusing once again on Scorpius.
"Not long," he told him, lightly. "Are you alright?"
Harry felt his heart fluster at the fact that Scorpius asked Albus that question when he was the boy that had collapsed - when he was the boy that was tortured with an Unforgivable Curse. It was so sweet to behold, if a little heart-rendering.
Albus brushed the fringe out of Scorpius' grey eyes, delicately. "I'm much better now," he replied, ignoring the fact that his dad was sitting to their side. Scorpius looked at him blankly. "Now you're awake again," he clarified, which made Harry smile, "and safe."
Harry noticed how the touches that Albus was offering Scorpius were lasting a few moments longer than they ought to and couldn't help but smile. It was the taller of the two boys that laced his fingers into Albus', but Harry couldn't help but feel proud of how open Albus was being in front of him. Sure, they'd spoken about what Scorpius meant to him at Cedric Diggory's grave that day, but this was a new level of openness: it was genuine and raw and there was no shame, or embarrassment.
He pulled Scorpius into a hug, and Harry smiled as the blonde boy hugged his son back.
“Albus, you’re squeezing me so tight, I can’t breathe-“ Scorpius managed to choke out a laugh, pushing the smaller boy off of him playfully.
“I’m sorry," Albus straddled his legs back around Scorpius to stay upright in the bed, ignoring the fact that his dad was present. “You just – really scared me.”
Scorpius pressed his forehead to Albus’ then, closing his eyes. Harry averted his gaze to the opposite side of the room, feeling very much like he was intruding on an intimate moment. Albus’ hands sprawled in the other boy’s hair.
“Were you boring him to sleep, dad?” Albus’ voice brought Harry out of his trance, making him look back their way.
“No," he tutted in response.
“I don’t believe you.”
Scorpius let out a small giggle.
“We were having a nice chat until you woke up, actually,” Harry responded, in a mocking tone that made Albus roll his eyes and laugh. “Weren’t we, Scorpius?” He nudged his head towards the blonde, telling him to go along with the jest without saying a word. While he knew Scorpius was unlikely to understand the meaning of the head tilt, he figured it was worth a go.
“We were talking about you," Harry let out a small scoff: he knew that Scorpius had a limited filter, given that Draco had told them about his social skills, but that took him by surprise. Albus froze, the smile dropping from his face as the words processed in his mind. Scorpius blinked, realising the way he said it was the wrong way to say it the minute he registered the paleness of Albus’ complexion. Harry looked down to his feet, smiling slightly at the genuine discomfort on both of their faces. “Good things," Scorpius added, quickly.
“Very good things," Harry widened his eyes towards his son, hoping his expression would say everything he wanted it to, hoping it would tell Albus that he didn’t need to worry about Scorpius loving him back because the blonde doted on him. “I’m just – going to owl your father.” He stood up, taking his leave and offering Albus a reassuring smile.
“Scorpius – whatever my dad said-"
Scorpius reached out for Albus' face, resting his hand on his cheek.
"We were saying good things-" Scorpius pressed his forehead to Albus', and continued. Harry heard Scorpius utter something about friendship and love and then opted not to listen to what they spoke about from there on in, walking out into the corridor with the biggest spring in his step. He wasn’t particularly looking where he was going when he turned the corner.
“Oh – my apologies-“ Draco’s voice took him by surprise, making the Potter man startle. “Harry.” He said, clearing his throat. “Is everything alright with Sco-“
“Oh, yeah," he said, as quickly as he could. He stumbled to the side, making the blonde man freeze. “He’s awake, he’s talking to Albus.”
“He’s awake?”
“I was just coming to owl you-“ Harry told him, defensively. “I didn’t realise you’d be back so soon.”
“I couldn’t rest knowing Scorpius was here,” Draco cleared his throat. “I’m sure you can understand.”
“I can.” Harry nodded. “I really can.” He smiled. “I’d – give them both a minute,” Harry said, raising his finger to the air. “They’re talking.”
“Talking?”
“About – well, they’re talking about what Scorpius, and I were talking about before Albus woke up," Harry stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. Draco was looking at him so dumbfoundedly. “And – well – we were talking about feelings. And love.”
“Ah,” Draco nodded, “I see.”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” Draco added, making Harry laugh. “I think it is about time they – talked about those feelings they share.”
Harry opted to agree, and then scrunched his nose up at the surprise of hearing Draco say something so pleasant, straightening his glasses. “I should get home," he said, "if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t," Draco said, "Scorpius has Albus here, as you said.”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you, Harry," Draco found himself saying. “For sitting with him – for talking to him.”
Harry nodded, knowing there was a lot of weight to that comment. “I’ll drop by in the morning," he told the other man.
“Goodnight," Draco spun on his heels, mentally preparing himself for possibly having to walk in on the two Slytherin boys kissing.
"Draco," Harry called after him, making the Malfoy man stop in his tracks once again. He turned, holding his chin up as he looked at the Potter man. "You have a really great kid," he said, genuinely, his tone was tender.
The blonde man paused momentarily and let those words process in his mind before responding, taking a step towards Harry with caution.
"We both do," Draco nodded his head in agreement, smiling, turning back around to walk into the ward where Scorpius and Albus were, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts once again.
It was true. They did both have great kids. And their kids had one another. Always.
***