Part 2

*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*

The next eight days pass quickly. McGonagall informs the school of Scorpius's death that evening at dinner; Albus returns the next lunchtime, red-eyed and heartbroken, and shrugs off the sympathy he receives from the other students, bitterly reminding them that they didn't care about him while he was still alive. It culminates in him screaming at his cousin Rose, Ron and Hermione's daughter, in front of the entire school at dinner that it's too late now for her to apologise for perpetuating the rumour that Scorpius was Voldemort's son, that she is one of the reasons for him being such a social outcast. It is only his younger sister Lily's presence and comfort that he tolerates. A few people ask for details but he refuses to tell them, snaps that it's none of their business and it's too late now to pretend that they care. Lily sits with him at the Slytherin table during meals, and even James joins them some of the time. When Rose and a couple of other Gryffindors challenge her about it, she tells them at wand-point in no uncertain terms where they can go, and they leave her alone after that.

Hermione manages to keep the particulars of the Delphi incident under wraps, and the media speculation is minimal, for which everyone involved is relieved. Ginny and Harry do their best to support Draco, but he insists on doing everything alone, closing the Manor Floo and ignoring their owls.

The evening before the funeral, Harry picks Albus and Lily up from school and takes them both home. Even Lily is quiet, though she clings to her brother as much as possible. Albus does not cry, but he is silent and unresponsive, and flinches away from hugs and physical contact. Harry sees him to bed (Lily went an hour earlier) and then returns downstairs, where Ginny is curled up on the sofa, a book in her hand. "How is he?" she asks.

Harry shakes his head as he sits down next to her. "I don't know."

"You?"

"The same. What time are we leaving tomorrow?"

Ginny lays aside her book. "The service is at midday. I told Draco we'd be there at eleven."

"What did he say?"

"He didn't tell me not to."

"Did he actually reply?" When she gives him a look, he responds with a sad smile. "Of course not. Are any of his classmates coming?"

She shakes her head. "It's just us four, McGonagall, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Hannah and the rest of the teachers. And I think Madam Pomfrey and Pince. Not even Daphne's coming; I asked her yesterday when I saw her at the Prophet. Her own nephew."

Harry wants to cry. He remembers the funerals from after the war – Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Colin Creevey… They were all packed – family members, classmates, colleagues, the general public. He knows that this one will be the opposite. "It's not right."

"I know, love. I know."

*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*

As promised, the Potters Floo over to the Manor at eleven o'clock sharp. Draco meets them, head to toe in black and hair carefully braided as usual, but his eyes have dark circles under them and his hands tremble ever so slightly. He looks as though he has barely slept or eaten for the last week. "Thank you for attending," he says, his voice devoid of emotion. Harry suspects it is a front, to enable him to get through the day, but he can't help but shudder a little at the deadness in Draco's eyes.

"Can we do anything to help?" asks Ginny.

"No. Everything is in hand. I'll show you through." He leads the four of them in silence down the long hallway and into the ballroom. Twenty chairs have been arranged at one end of the room, facing the elaborate coffin that, with a jolt, Harry realises contains the youngest Malfoy's body. When Albus stumbles, Harry catches him and slips an arm around him, guiding him through. Only the wizard conducting the ceremony is there and he solemnly greets the Potters. Draco leaves them to it, to wait for the other attendees, and Harry sits down, Albus on one side of him and Lily on the other. Ginny sits down by Albus, too, and both adults take their children's hands.

By quarter to twelve, everyone has arrived, and at precisely midday, the service begins. The Ministry wizard does his part and then Albus gets to his feet. He shakes a little as he turns to face the others and his voice wavers. "Scorpius was my best friend. Things haven't been so easy for me but we met on our first journey to Hogwarts when we were eleven and we've stuck together ever since. He – he was the sweetest, kindest person I've ever known and he didn't deserve the horrible rumours people spread about him. Even when I wasn't as good a friend to him as I should have been, he stuck by me. What happened to him – it's not right. We should be at school right now; he should be telling me off for leaving my homework till the last minute but helping me with it anyway. I – I shouldn't be saying my final goodbye to him. Most people never realised what a wonderful person he was but I did and I'm proud to have been his friend." He turns towards the coffin and places a hand on it. "I – I'm going to miss you. Thank you for being my best friend." Only then does he break down, tears beginning to slip down his face as he stumbles back to his seat; Harry and Ginny promptly wrap him in their arms and Lily crouches down on the floor in front of him, one hand on his knee and unshed tears glimmering her eyes.

It is Draco's turn, and as Albus's sobs quieten, Draco takes a deep breath. When he speaks, his voice is steady and he stands tall. There is no emotion on his face or in his voice; Harry suspects that this is the only way he can get through this. "Scorpius was a wonderful son. He was always eager to learn everything he possibly could; I don't think I've ever known anyone with such a thirst for knowledge, except for perhaps Hermione Granger." There is a light chuckle among the others. "He wasn't always the happiest but he kept going even when the odds were against him, when he was shunned because of the mistakes I made. As Albus said, he was sweet and kind, and he was everything I hoped he would be. The day he was born was the happiest day of my life. Losing his mother to illness devastated him; she was such a good influence on him and he took after her a great deal. I was so pleased for him when he found a friend in Albus." He pauses, taking a deep breath. "I loved him very much and the world is a lot darker without him." On the last word, his voice cracks; he gives a brief nod and sits back down, staring straight ahead, rigidly upright and hands clasped together in his lap.

The ceremony concludes and Scorpius's coffin is borne out to the area of the Manor grounds where all Malfoys are buried; he is to lie next to his mother. A light drizzle is falling, which Harry thinks is fitting for the mood. Draco leads the procession, alone at the front of it.

When the burial is complete, the Ministry wizard gives the formal dismissal, and people begin to make their way inside. Albus lingers with Draco for a few minutes and then takes the arm of the last Malfoy, leading him back to the house. A house-elf has put out food for everyone, but Albus, not hungry, ignores it and sits down at the side of the room, staring at nothing in particular. There is a low hum of conversation and Draco has to deal with everyone expressing their sorrow to him. Harry holds back, not wanting to overwhelm him, and eventually people leave: first the Ministry wizard, then the Hogwarts staff, then McGonagall, and then Ron and Hermione, leaving just the Potters. Lily has already told Draco that she is very sorry and given him a hug, which he stiffly returned, so Ginny sends her home, to go back to Hogwarts the next day. Then Ginny approaches him. "Please let me know if there's anything we can do," she says. "I wish things had gone differently and I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but we are here for you."

He nods. "Thank you."

She can't help noticing how strained he looks, the slight shake throughout his body, and she wonders if he has even cried yet, so she grabs Harry and Albus. "I think it's time we headed home."

Harry follows her gaze and can feel the tension radiating from Draco, so he sends Albus to say goodbye to Draco. The exchange is brief and Albus shakes Draco's hand before returning to his parents. Harry pats his son on the shoulder. "You two go ahead; I'll follow in a minute."

Ginny nods and leads Albus from the room to Floo home, casting a last look at Draco as she does so. Harry approaches Draco and stands in front of him; only now can he see just how tense and rigid the other man is. The deadness in his eyes has not dissipated and Harry's heart breaks for him. "How are you?"

"Do you really need to ask that?"

Harry mentally winces; it was a stupid question.

"After we lost Astoria, I let him down – Scorpius, I mean," says Draco. He has that same flat, dead tone that Harry noticed earlier. "I wasn't there for him like I should have been. She was my only light for so long. And then we had Scorpius. He's – he was – so different from me in so many ways, and so like her. There was so much of her in him. He didn't deserve to be born into this family; he deserved a far better one, one like yours. When – when Astoria died, Scorpius was all I had left, the only thing keeping me going." He pauses. "And now he's gone. Harry, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to be alone for a while."

"Of course." Harry nods. "We're here for you, Draco; just let us know."

Draco nods briefly, then steps away to avoid any physical contact. "Goodbye, Harry."

"Goodbye, Draco." Harry gives the other man a sad smile before leaving the room.

*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*

Several rooms – the significant ones – and one item retrieved from his study later, he sets out on the penultimate leg of his walk. His pace is slow now, as he lingers, allowing himself to remember, and he feels as though he is walking through treacle. The effort is almost too much, the memories overwhelming, but he forces himself to keep going until he reaches his son's bedroom. It is just as he left it on September first, heading off to Hogwarts for his fourth year, blissfully unaware of the events that would begin on that particular journey, events that would ultimately cost him his life. Everything is neat and tidy: the many books neatly organised on their shelves, the photos of the three of them, and of Scorpius and Albus, around the room, his desk, carefully set up for his return at Christmas – a return that would now not take place.

In the middle of the bed is Teddy, the now-worn and battered teddy bear Draco's parents gave Scorpius when he was born. He sits down on the bed and picks up Teddy, pressing him closely to himself as he breathes in the lingering scent of his son. Though the bear never went to Hogwarts – "Teddy won't like it there; there will be too many people and he likes the quiet" – Scorpius still curls – curled – up with him at night during the holidays. Again the memories overwhelm him and Draco swallows the rising sobs, refusing to give in.

After a few minutes, he gets to his feet and, with one final look around the bedroom, he leaves with Teddy still in his grip, closing the door behind him, and departs for the final part of his walk. As he steps outside, a lone peacock lets out a shriek. He shivers – the birds' cries have always struck him as unbearably mournful, and he could never understand why his father liked them so much. The light drizzle that fell earlier has not stopped, but he is oblivious to it as he takes one heavy step after another through the grounds of the Manor, focusing only on his journey.

He does not stop until he reaches the family graveyard, his feet stilling only when he arrives between Astoria's grave and the newly-filled-in one that belongs to Scorpius. It shouldn't. He shouldn't be here, like this, only fourteen and already in the ground, never to emerge again. First he turns his attention to Astoria's grave, fresh, tastefully-arranged flowers on top of it. "I'm sorry I failed your son," he tells her. "Please forgive me."

And now for the hardest part. He steadies himself as he rests a hand on the newly-engraved marble headstone that indicates the youngest Malfoy. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you, Scorpius," he says, voice cracking and wavering. "I'm sorry I failed you."

He remains there for a moment before reaching into his pocket, pulling out the bottle there and uncorking it. "You were the only thing keeping me going. I did love you. I hope you knew that." A mere few drops of the potion will suffice, but he isn't taking any chances; Teddy held to his chest with one hand, he swallows the entire contents of the bottle. Immediately his body is on fire, as though hit by a dozen Cruciatus Curses all at once, but he grits his teeth and forces himself not to scream in agony as he feels his internal organs rupturing, burning, melting. Seconds later he crumples to the soft ground as he loses consciousness for the last time, leaving behind a world that has brought him little but pain. Soon he will be with Astoria and Scorpius again.

*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*

At seven-thirty the following morning, Ginny and Harry are abruptly woken by a loud crack in their bedroom. Harry sits bolt upright, feeling around for his glasses, while Ginny lights her wand; when Harry can see, he looks wildly around the room for the source of the noise until he spots the house-elf. He doesn't recognise her, but she is wringing her hands in her smart apron. "Mr Harry Potter, sir, you is awake?" she squeaks, her voice quavering.

Blinking, Harry nods. "I am now. What's going on?"

"Please, sir, I am Missy. My master is Draco Malfoy. Mr Potter must come with Missy immediately!"

Alarmed, Harry exchanges looks with his wife. "What's wrong?"

The elf hiccups, tears glistening in her large, bulbous eyes. "Missy went to wake Master Malfoy, but he was not in his room. Missy looked everywhere for Master Malfoy and when she finds him, he is not waking up. Missy did not know what to do so is thinking maybe Master's friends Mr and Mrs Potter could maybe be helping her."

A cold wave of fear crashes over Harry, momentarily paralysing him as his last conversation with Draco plays in his head. Scorpius was all I had left, the only thing keeping me going…I think I'd like to be alone for a while…Goodbye. Snapping into action, he scrambles out of bed as Ginny does the same and they both throw on their nearest clothes before he grabs his wand. "Missy, I need you to take me to Draco. Now. Ginny, tell the kids what's going on."

Ginny is already halfway out of the bedroom door as Missy, holding onto Harry, Disapparates. They arrive in the damp, drizzle-covered grounds of the Manor, at the spot where Harry stood only yesterday, by the newly-filled-in grave of Scorpius, his son's best and only real friend. Now he notices the meticulously-arranged flowers on the grave next to it, the marble headstone marking it as Astoria's.

But it is the sight of the figure between the two graves that causes Harry to stumble: on the ground, curled up and on his side, still in his clothes from the previous day and white-blond hair still tidily braided, is Draco. His eyes are shut and he is completely colourless. There is a thin trickle of drying – or possibly dried – blood coming from one corner of his mouth and one hand is wrapped around an empty potion bottle. The other clutches an old, battered teddy bear to his chest. Instinct kicks in and Harry drops down beside the unmoving figure, struggling to keep his breathing steady. The other man's lips are slightly blue. "Draco? Draco, can you hear me?" When that fails to elicit a response, Harry reaches for his neck under the high-collared black clothing, hoping that his suspicions will prove false.

There is no pulse. Draco is cold. As cold as the headstones marking the graves of his wife and son.

Scorpius was all I had left, the only thing keeping me going.

Harry extracts the potion bottle from Draco's grasp and cautiously sniffs it. Twenty years of being an Auror means he can identify the potion from its smell alone – Hellfire, a powerful poison that, with just a few drops, burns and melts a person's internal organs, causing an agonising death within a few minutes; survivors have reported the pain to be on the same level as the Cruciatus Curse. It's illegal (though the individual ingredients are not), but skilled potioneers are able to make it without much difficulty, and Harry knows that Draco had the ability.

And, he realises, the motivation. What happened here is heartbreakingly apparent and as Draco's words from the previous day echo around his head, he feels sick – the other man came as close as was possible for him to telling Harry that he had nothing left to live for, to telling Harry what he planned to do. That he planned to end his own life. And Harry, true to form, failed to pick up on it, could have prevented this if only he had listened properly.

Hands shaking, he places the bottle down on the floor, takes a deep breath and calls for Missy. When she appears, he sends her to bring Ginny and a moment later, the house-elf returns with his wife. "Harry?" asks Ginny uncertainly, slowly approaching him.

Harry raises his head to look at her, tears in his eyes. "He – he tried to tell me, Gin. He tried to tell me he was planning this. But I didn't realise…"

"What did he say?"

"That Scorpius had been the only thing keeping him going. I should have picked up on it, should have insisted on staying with him!"

Ginny crouches down beside him, her hand on his shoulder. "You wouldn't have been able to stop him. He would have found a way whatever you did. At least –" Her breath catches in her throat "– at least they're together again." But her words ring hollow as they gaze, devastated, at the lifeless form in front of them, at the end of the Malfoy line.

*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*

~fin~

I can't believe I actually killed them both off; I feel horrible! But the idea of what would happen if they didn't all make it out okay wouldn't go away so it became this fic. A number of tears may or may not have been shed during the writing and editing of this fic.