Firstly a HUUUUUUUUGE thankyou to my lovely darling friend Mandals. If it weren't for her this would never have been uploaded because I'm a huge sissy.
WARNING: This story contains sexual abuse/allusions to rape, mental illness and possible future references to attempted suicide. Please read at your own discretion.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
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Prologue - He dreams of shadows and green lights
It's the second week of summer break before fifth year and Scorpius is walking with his mother along their secret path in the meadow not so far from Malfoy Manor when it happens. Scorpius's stomach sinks and his heart hammers as five men, all bearing the same dark tattoo his father and grandfather try so hard to hide, surround he and his mother. Scorpius recognises the harrowed faces of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange from the family tree his grandmother used to show him and they smile crudely, their rotten teeth appearing more like fangs in the shadows their oily hair create. Before Scorpius can so much as pull out his wand from his pocket, the five Death Eaters are firing hexes and curses and Astoria is barely holding them at bay.
"Scorpius, run! RUN!" She screams desperately. A ray of purple light strikes her in the chest and she cries out, her defensive shields collapsing instantly. Scorpius tries to run but a well-aimed Tarantellegra hits him and his legs are no longer under his control. One of the monsters laughs uproariously and makes his way over to Scorpius, enjoying how utterly stupid he must look.
"What a pretty ballerina!" The Death Eater says, clapping and humming a tune for Scorpius to unwillingly 'dance' to. The other two monsters and the Lestrange brothers turn their attention to Astoria instead.
"Don't touch her! Leave her alone!" Scorpius demands and surprisingly, the four men listen.
"He's right lads," Rodolphus says, leering down at Astoria. "It isn't proper to mistreat a lady as fine as Mrs Malfoy here. What say you, love? Shall we entertain you?"
He doesn't wait for Astoria's response and quickly hits her with a body-binding curse, ensuring that she is facing Scorpius. Tears stream down her face but the spell renders her a silent, unwilling witness.
They start with a standard hex and work their way up from there, systematically breaking ribs and fingers and eventually using full blown Cruciatus curses. He tries not to scream or cry, but eventually it's all too much and he just doesn't bother fighting. He's not entirely sure what they're doing to him anymore or how long they've been at it. The searing pain of the continuous Cruciatuses are beginning to fog his senses and everything is beginning to blur together in a haze of curses and spells and hands tearing at his Muggle clothing. Beyond his own desperate screams he can hear the attackers leering.
"I didn't know Malfoy had a daughter."
"He doesn't, that's the son."
"Ah well, can't let a face like that go to waste, can we?"
Scorpius closes his eyes and tries to block everything out; the rancid, ragged breathing of someone above him, the feel of their rough hands all over him and their invasion. It feels like an age before they seem to be satisfied but Scorpius can't bring himself to feel relief or much of anything, really. He remains unmoving on the wet, overgrown grass, no longer caring about whatever tortures they'll hand out next. Perhaps they'll kill him; at this point death would be a welcome luxury. The spell on his mother must have worn off at some point; she's begging and wailing and he hears one of the monsters demand that she shut up. The monsters congregate and mutter amongst themselves and, for a brief, stupid moment, Scorpius thinks they're finally leaving; that they're finally satisfied with what they have accomplished. Then, all too suddenly, there is a flash of green light and his mother's sobs are silenced. The dull sound of a limp body slumping in the damp grass rings in Scorpius's ears. Scorpius must have said something, must have begged them to kill him too because the monsters laugh, cruel and loud in the otherwise silent meadow.
"And leave nobody to re-tell the story to your father? Not a chance princess."
Scorpius feels the same rough hands from before grope around in the pockets of his ruined jeans, before they find and pull out the slim wood of his wand. The sound of his wand snapping is symbolic really, there is only so much Scorpius can take face-down. He howls, and throws himself in the general direction of his attackers, uncaring if they kill him then and there. He can feel his magic begin to course through him, cracking and distorting and escaping him in potent waves despite no longer having a functioning wand to channel it through. This loss of control suddenly makes Scorpius feel so free and feral and powerful. His magic whispers to him, urging him to seek revenge, telling him that these bastards deserve to pay in any way possible. Scorpius doesn't fight it; he gives in willingly and allows it to take over him, revelling in the darkness that overpowers him and washes his senses away.
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Scorpius regains some semblance of control over his magic at some point and eventually the dark haze clears a little. The monsters are nowhere to be found in the field and he is so overcome with exhaustion that he doesn't even begin to think about how he will make his way home, or if he will even survive through the night. He lies under the starless sky, wondering absently if the sun had still been up before his wand was broken. He lets the reassuring whispers of his magic lull him into a fitful slumber and he dreams of shadows and green lights.
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It's Harry Potter that finds Scorpius half-conscious and wrapped in the arms of his mother, just as the sun is reaching the middle of the sky. "The Fool Who Refused to Die" (as he was dubbed by Scorpius's father) pulls Scorpius from those cold, cold arms and tells him, "Everything's going to get better." Scorpius appreciates that he doesn't say "Everything's okay", because that would imply that the situation right now is okay and frankly they both know it isn't. But despite the comforting words, those infamous eyes are too unsettlingly familiar a green and those unfamiliar arms are holding gripping his aching ribs far too tightly so Scorpius panics; he can't breathe, he can't think, everything just feels broken and invasive and wrong. He can feel his magic coursing through his arms to his fingertips in response to his panic and suddenly there's an explosion nearby. Scorpius screams and so do Harry Potter and a few of the other Aurors who accompanied him. Everyone turns to face Scorpius and he feels shameful even though it couldn't have been him who caused the explosion because he's the top of his class at Hogwarts and he's been doing magic since he was two.
"Scorpius?" Those Avada Kedavra green eyes are focused on him again.
"I don't know. I'm sorry," Scorpius blurts, not bothering to wipe away the tears freely falling from his eyes, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"You're frightened, it's understandable. Sometimes our magic plays up after a trauma. We'll get you to St Mungo's."
Harry places a hand on Scorpius's wrist but flinches away instantly as though he's been burned. Scorpius can feel his magic surge protectively along his left arm, throbbing painfully through the horrible scar burnt into his forearm. He hadn't noticed it before, but as he begins to focus on it he recognises the surprisingly well-drawn and intricate shape of a snake and skull through the layers of dirt and blood. Harry's sad gaze lingers on the mark for a moment, but he seems to shake himself out of it.
"We're just going to Apparate, Scorpius. Nobody is going to hurt you again; you just need to trust me."
Harry tries to touch Scorpius again but he can't quite regain control over the current running through his whole left side.
"I'm sorry. I don't know…I'm sorry."
Harry nods his head in sympathetic understanding and turns from Scorpius. He casts a Patronus and Scorpius listens as the silver stag is instructed to contact Draco Malfoy and alert him that his son has been found. Less than a minute passes before two loud cracks signal the arrival of Scorpius's father and grandfather. Draco ignores Harry Potter's warnings and rushes to Scorpius, hugging him and sobbing unashamedly. Scorpius wonders absently if he should be worried that he can't feel any aching in his misshapen fingers and ribs.
"My son, my life. I thought I lost you. I thought you were gone," he says frantically, weaving his fingers through Scorpius's bloodied, tangled hair.
"I…mum…she's dead...I…they broke me too, dad. I'm broken."
Draco holds him for a long time, pulling away with great reluctance to turn and face a solemn Harry Potter. The two men disappear into their own deep conversation (Harry Potter is doing all the talking, Draco is unspeaking, silently crumbling) and Scorpius is left to himself for a moment. His magic has faded to a dull thrumming in his fingertips and there are whispers in his head that hadn't been there before all of this. Scorpius is so exhausted and he can't keep up with himself anymore, so he is relieved when his grandfather comes to hold him; Lucius's presence keeps the shadows at bay for the time being. They stand there, silent and ignored, until one of the Aurors makes a discovery and shouts for Harry Potter. There's confusion and a little bit of panic until something is levitated from the bramble by the field's edge.
"Don't look, Scorpius," Lucius whispers in his ear but it's too late. Scorpius manages to catch sight of the mangled head of the man he only just recognises as the one who had violated him. He wonders who could have possibly killed the bastard, but he doesn't dwell on the thought because his grandfather has him suffocated in the most protective embrace he has ever experienced. Scorpius can feel the shaking of Lucius's shoulders and hears a tell-tale sniff as the grip around his middle is tightened and they spin away to London.
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Two months fly by in a whirl of potions, legilimency and invasive questions from stone-faced Aurors and mediwizards alike. Draco has ruled out returning to Hogwarts for the time being and so when September rolls by, Scorpius is still left in the Janus Thickey Ward with only his father and (more often) grandfather for company. Sometimes he'll pay a visit to poor Gilderoy Lockhart, but the man so often forgets who Scorpius is, and he's ashamed to admit that he doesn't really have the patience to listen to Lockhart's repeated questions and stories. He doesn't receive any letters either; he never really had a close circle of friends at school. His fellow Ravenclaws were far too preoccupied with maintaining good marks or, as Scorpius suspects, were too jealous and caught up in trying to best him in their studies to really befriend him. He supposes they don't really have to worry about beating him anymore; he hasn't so much as touched his new wand, Astoria's first wand that was given to him by his aunt Daphne.
Intentional magic is something Scorpius avoids. He doesn't trust himself anymore. Since the attack, his magic hasn't quite been what it used to. It's still strong and arguably more potent than before but now he is conscious of it flowing beneath his skin, warped and perverse. It constantly plays up, shaming Scorpius to no end. He knows the healers are frightened of him. He sees them flinch whenever he so much as moves or frowns or, Merlin forbid, cries. He can't really blame them though, he'd almost blown up most of the ward when he had argued with Healer Fritz about the peas she tried to force feed him. And he'd almost burnt off half of Healer McDonnel's face when the young healer had walked in too quietly during his midnight rounds and spooked Scorpius half to death. Not to mention the panes upon panes of glass he's smashed simply by coughing, or sneezing, or even while trying to muster a fake smile for Draco and Lucius.
And so, Scorpius is mostly left to his own devices. He dwells far too often on that summer day and is left in the company of his magic for far too long. It whispers and stirs when Scorpius is alone and even though he can't quite understand what it's trying to tell him, he is still left feeling unsettled and out of control. The healers assure him it will all pass given time, that he'll be back to normal soon enough and by October, when it seems his bouts of accidental magic have calmed, they even give him the all-clear to return to Hogwarts. He's doubtful they've made the right choice (and he suspects the healers just don't want to deal with him anymore) but the magic within him pulses in blissful ecstasy at the news and he's learnt to just go with what it wants unless he intends to blow something up or accidentally kill someone.
So while it seems like his magic is on the mend, Scorpius knows his mind is far from healed. He knows the monsters in his mind will still linger because no matter how hard he tries, and no matter how many dreamless sleep draughts he takes, he can still see the shadows and green lights ensnaring him in his sleep, cradling him for an eternity.