"Hey Al?"
"Yeah Scorp?"
"What do you think life is like after death?"
"I honestly have no idea."
Albus Severus Potter opened his eyes a total of three times before being fully conscious at St. Mungos.
The first time was, from what he was told by his father, a week after he had gone through extensive healing from the healers. He had only got a glimpse of his surroundings before falling back under the beckoning call of sleep.
Though the walls were white, the color wasn't overly powerful, nor was it hurting his eyes. The lights had been dimmed down so as to let his father sleep in the chair next to his bed. The white curtains were drawn shut over the window so as to not let any moonlight in.
He remembered that across from his bed, and just under the window, sat a small couch, white in color, that held the rest of his family. James and Lily sitting on each end resting their heads on their mothers' shoulders, who was also slouched, sleeping. They didn't look much better than his father. Like they hadn't gotten enough sleep.
The second time was apparently two days after the last. Bright sunlight shone through the window and he could see people bustling about. Healers were replacing bandages on his limbs and torso, dumping the old ones, red in color, into a bag. He was given a potion to drink and was pushed back to the plush pillows. He noticed that only his father was there, talking with another man dressed in black. His blond hair was slicked back and he reminded Al of someone, though he couldn't think of whom. The man quickly looked at Al before his father guided the man out into the hallway.
The last thing Al noticed before drifting back into a dreamless sleep was a think, heavy-looking curtain that was drawn by his bed. He couldn't see past it, though he could only suspect what was behind it.
The third time James told Lily to get mum and dad. James hovered over Al, almost protective in a way. Al couldn't really see past his muscular brother except he found that outside the window it was dark. The couch was the holder of many jackets and what looked like pieces of clothing, as if his family had officially moved into his hospital room.
He noted silently that the heavy curtain was still drawn closed next to his bed. James had sat down on the side of the bed, dipping it slightly so Al's legs moved a bit. A dull pain started in his calf's from being moved, but Al moved that thought aside when Lily came skidding into the room followed by their parents. They stopped just inside the door to stare at him before rushing to his side. Questions spilled out of their mouths but Al couldn't comprehend what they were saying.
Lily was just climbing up on the end of the bed when Al went under again. But this time he had a nightmare.
He was walking through the dungeon half aware of where he was. He felt like collapsing, his legs jelly and his whole body exhausted. Someone was holding him up; their shoulder just under his armpit and one of their arms was around his middle section. He coughed and felt something spurt out of his mouth. Bringing a hand to wipe at his mouth he felt something wet and looked down. His hand was red and he noticed that the front of his school shirt was crimson.
Moving forward, watching the floor and struggling with each step, he finally collapsed to the floor, landing in a heap. He heard a person swear and then there were warm hands on his face, making him look up.
Messy blond hair came swimming into his vision. Relief flooded the pale face, grey eyes sad. Then they cried 'help' as he was thrown back into the opposite wall, where there was a fire torch burning. Al could only watch as Scorpius, now unconscious, went up in flames. He tried to move, his body protesting with every attempt to get closer to his best friend.
He was stopped by a hand and was roughly pushed against the cold wall, a hand pinning him on his throat.
Al gasped and sat up, crying out as pain shot through his torso and legs. He laid back down gulping in air, staring at the ceiling. Someone rushed to his bedside as he rubbed his neck furiously. Glancing down as the bed dipped, Al saw Lily and his mother. Both had seen better days, though they tried to hide it with foundation and mascara.
Behind them, staring at the scene, was the blond man again, dressed in black clothes. Al stared back until the other man looked down and continued on his way out the door. He watched and kept all his attention on the slightly ajar door, as if daring the man to come back in.
He heard his mother laugh and say something along the lines 'you're definitely your fathers' child' while Lily grabbed his hand and squeezed. Al squeezed back before eyeing the still closed, white curtain. He was about to ask what was behind it when his brother chose that moment to come skittering into the room, only to crash on his hospital bed.
Scowling, Lily tried to pushing him off, saying "You're hurting him". Al shook his head and watched his father come into the room holding to foam cup of coffee. He handed one to his mother before sitting down in the bed-side chair that his father had apparently officially claimed.
"The healers told us that we can take you home soon." Al nodded and looked down at his pale hands. He wanted ask what happened, where Scorpius was, how soon it was to Christmas. But he didn't. He couldn't. It would kill him inside to know the truth. He suspected that his best friend lay on the other side of that curtain and that things weren't looking good for him. But, somehow, not knowing the truth was better.
Al didn't speak through the rest of his time at St. Mungo's. His family would talk and sometimes bicker. At one point his mum had to break up a yelling match between Lily and James, telling them that she would personally throw them into the snow if they kept it up, taking into consideration that none of them liked to cold weather. They stopped but kept a distance away from each other for a while.
Al noticed that the man in black kept walking through the room and would spend hours behind the curtain. Once in a while, when Al's family was out of the room and Al pretended to be asleep, he could hear quiet sobs. Al felt bad and tried not to dwell on it. But then Al's dad would walk through the door and there would be silence again.
His dad would always have this look on his face, like he was in deep thought. Al wouldn't question it but instead read some books that apparently Rose had insisted that his mum give to him to read. There were five books total and in the week he was there, aware of everything, he read through 2 and a half. He made a mental note to thank Rose later, when he was out of the hospital.
One day, Al awoke in the morning to Lily sitting on the side of the bed and hushed whispers that came from his dad and the man in black. He pulled himself so he was sitting with his back against the pillows. Lily, with one of Roses' books in her hand, whispered in Al's ear.
"That's Scorpius' dad." Now Al saw the connection and in fact his silent question burning in the back of his mind had the answer. He looked away and couldn't meet his family's eyes when they spoke to him. He would look at a spot just above their heads.
Through the extensive bandage changing at least once a day, Al was finally released and he went home with his family. Nothing had changed at home when he limped through the front door. He was told by the healers that he may have to live with a limp for the rest of his life but Al didn't care.
First thing he did when he got home was flopped down on the couch in front of the fire place. Lily ran up to her room while James went to raid the fridge. He was still stuffing his face when he came into the living room and sat next to Al, pulling his legs up to his chest. Their dad went to go see if any owls dropped any mail while their mum went upstairs to take a shower.
"Mum wasn't sure if you were ever going to wake." James finished the rest of the chocolate cookies and began eating cheese filled croissants. Al grimaced and looked away, nodding slowly. To be honest, he thought it was a miracle that he was even alive himself. "It was Uncle Nevile who found you. Mum says that we're still supposed to call him Professor Longbottom, but I don't care. He said he was going down to get some plant growth potions when he found you lying in a pool of blood and Scorpius was badly burned, though the fire had been put out…"
Al buried his head in his hands, shaking his head slowly. He didn't want to hear, he didn't need to hear. James stuffed another croissant into his mouth when their dad came back in.
"James, you wanna go with me tomorrow to get a Christmas tree?" He sat down in an armchair and flipped through letters and bills that had come. He handed a stack to Al. "Those are for you." Al glanced at them and set them on the coffee table.
"Sure, I guess." James got up and faked a stretch and a yawn. "Well I'm beat. Night."
"Night James." James headed up the stairs and their dad turned to Al. "Are you going to read those?"
Al shrugged and got up, picking up the letters and hobbled up the stairs to his room. He shut the door and threw the envelops on his dresser before taking off his shirt. He winced and glanced in the mirror at his body. There were white bandages wrapped around his chest and shoulders. His arms had small bandages here and there. He moved towards his bed and slipped out of his pants, moving as little as possible. Only in his boxers, he crawled into his bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin and laid on his back. Grabbing his wand off the nightstand, he put out the light and stared at the darkened ceiling waiting for sleep to envelop him.