BEATER 2: Captain, isaacswolfsbane, Cannons: After Astoria's death, Scorpius relies heavily on Albus for support. This results in the Malfoys and Potter-Weasleys becoming close.


Day 36.

Scorpius was quiet. There was nothing overtly worrying about his posture or expression. His hand didn't shake around the spoon full of cereal scooped from a half empty bowl.

Scorpius was quiet, though. Too quiet.

This made Albus very, very worried.


Day 36 since his mother's death.

Day 36 since Scorpius's life had fallen apart.

Day 15 since the Potter-Weasleys essentially took him in.

He could feel Albus's stare from where he was shoveling in his cereal. Okay, yes, he wasn't okay but sweet Merlin, he wasn't going to have a breakdown in the middle of his breakfast cereal!

Distantly, they could hear Mr. Potter calling for James and Lily to get up. Both had inherited their mother's preference for sleeping in, the heathens.

"You know, Al," Scorpius finally said, making the boy's green eyes snap up to his for a brief second before they darted away guiltily. "You're going to burn a hole through me with that basilisk gaze of yours if you aren't careful."

Albus's eyes widened with embarrassment. "Sorry," he muttered. "You're just...really quiet this morning."

Scorpius stabbed his spoon into his cereal. "Shit happens," he muttered.

Albus fell quiet for a moment, but Scorpius could still feel his gaze.

"What?" he snapped.

"...did your dad forget to Floo call you again?" Albus asked tentatively. Scorpius froze, his breath catching in his throat as if he'd stepped out of a warm car and into freezing air. "I don't mean to pry, Scorp, I just want to-"

"What?" Scorpius demanded, heat pooling in his cheeks. He knew Albus just wanted to help and knew that he was being unreasonable but it was so hard to stay calm when all he could think about was how his father had basically abandoned him after his mother's death, unable to look at the son they'd shared together.

"Help you," Albus finished.

Guilt swarmed through Scorpius's body, even though he knew Albus would be upset for inspiring that guilt in the first place. Since his mother's death, Albus had been his rock and his shield, protecting him from the media swarm that followed.

"I'm sorry," Scorpius finally said, picking up his spoon from where it'd fallen out of the bowl. He wiped up a few milk drops and gave a tiny, tired smile. "Do you want to go play Quidditch?"

Albus's eyes lit up. "Yeah!" he said, grabbing Scorpius's hand and dragging him out of his seat. Despite himself, a tiny laugh bubbled out of his lips as he let himself be pulled along by the taller boy.

"Think we can get James and Lily to join after they eat?" Scorpius asked as they took off for the garden.

"Duh," Albus replied. They stepped out into the morning sun and for a moment, Scorpius could breathe again.


-rewind-


Day 1.

The uneasiness in Scorpius's gut only grew stronger as he followed Headmistress McGonagall into her office. He'd felt off all day but the feeling only strengthened when the Headmistress had stopped him on his way out of dinner and asked him to come with her.

"Ma'am-" he tried again, only to be cut off.

"In a moment, Mr. Malfoy."

He swallowed hard, wrapping one goose-bump ladened arm around the other. He'd only been in this office once or twice before, usually as a tag along for his father's errands. The office was a spartan as always and yet, the shadows seemed to deepen in sync with Scorpius's rising anxiety.

"Take a seat," said McGonagall, gesturing to the worn, yet well upkept red cushioned pine chair. Scorpius lowered himself into it, fiddling with his thumbs.

"Is there something wrong, Headmistress?" Scorpius asked hesitantly. His throat grew tighter when he saw a shadow flicker past her eyes.

"I always hate this duty," she started, staring somewhere past him. "Heavens knows I've had to do it enough times." She took a steadying breath, piercing, all-knowing eyes locking onto his. "I regret to inform you that earlier today, your mother, Astoria Malfoy, passed away."

A cold jolt rushed through his bones, the words not quite making sense.

"I- what?" he said. The chill spread through him in equal pace with the numbness, as if his body understood the threat where his mind did not.

The lines in McGonagall's face seemed deeper now as she pushed a cup of tea towards him. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Malfoy."

Scorpius stared at the desk for a long minute, unable to process the words- unable to even think.

He was cold.

"-understand that this is a difficult thing to hear. If you wish, you may take the rest of the week off. Your father informed me the funeral will be on Sunday, in four days. He and your head of house will inform you-"

"She's dead?" he finally asked, voice hoarse and croaking. It didn't seem real.

It wasn't real.

He'd- he'd seen her only a few months before, at Easter. She'd been so bright and alive and- and- she couldn't be dead. She couldn't! What could have killed her? There wasn't any Death Eaters running around, she wasn't sick, she wasn't a muggle-

"-yes," McGonagall said, hesitating before the word. "She died of a heart attack, I'm afraid."

"But she's not that old!" Scorpius said, clinging to the only scrap that made sense to him. "How could she have a heart attack?"

"They believe she had an undiagnosed heart disorder," said McGonagall. "I am truly sorry, Mr. Malfoy."

He didn't cry, but stood stiffly, limbs like ice and head frozen and heavy. "Good night, Headmistress," he said. Was it rude? He wasn't sure. He didn't particularly care.

McGonagall said something but Scorpius didn't hear. He took one step at a time, his hand clenched tight around the railing as his body threatened to simply collapse.

It wasn't true.

She wasn't dead.

They were wizards! They had magic! There was no reason no one could have saved her- they had house elves, for Merlin's sake. He didn't understand.

"Scorpius? Are you okay?" a familiar voice asked.

Scorpius looked up to see Albus's concerned eyes. He shook his head once, and then again and again until his shoulders were shaking and breaths came of his mouth in little pants and his heart clenched and stomach burned and oh- there were arms around him and his cheeks were wet and they were somehow on the group and his head was on Albus's shoulder.

"What happened?" Albus asked.

Scorpius answered.


Day 1565.

Scorpius laid a single rose on the grave.

Albus squeezed his hand.

They rose, new rings glimmering in the early dawning sun as Scorpius introduced his mother to her new son-in-law.

A gentle wind tousled their hair and for a moment, they were overcome by peace and the warmth of a mother's love.