Scorpius was more jittery than normal on the train.
"It'll be fine," Albus said for the millionth time. "Really. You already know me and Rose and James, Lily. I know I have Harry Potter for a dad, but he's not that intimidating once you hear him try to make a joke."
"Albus is right, Scorpius."
Rose glanced up from her book. It was the first acknowledgment she'd given that she could hear their conversation for the past hour.
"No one could dislike you once they talk to you."
Scorpius nodded, though he looked unconvinced. He stared out the window, waiting for King's Cross to appear as London flashed by. When it did, he sprung to his feet.
"We're here!" he exclaimed.
Rose struggled to contain her giggling. Even Albus couldn't help but grin.
"We are," he said, standing up at a reasonable speed as the train came to a stop.
The platform outside was as packed as it usually was. By now, their parents had figured out which carriage they rode in each trip, so they were visible through the window. Scorpius stared in their direction with wide eyes. Albus sighed and stepped forward to clap Scorpius on the shoulder, drawing his attention away.
"You need your trunk, Scorpius."
It took a moment for Scorpius's brain to work through what Albus had told him. When it did, he nodded and turned to grab his trunk from the shelf above his seat.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, his face turned away from the others. "I wish I wasn't nervous. It's not your family. It's the first time I won't spend all of the holidays at home, so I guess it feels rather odd to me."
"As it would for anyone," Rose said.
Her stance as she stood in the doorway was one of impatience, with her arms crossed and foot tapping, but her words were said kindly.
"I'm amazed that you agreed to go to the Potters."
Scorpius's face grew dark. Albus stepped in front of Scorpius so that he hid Rose from view and gripped both of his friend's shoulders.
"Remember," he said, causing Scorpius to look at him, "it's not for the whole holiday. You'll be back at Malfoy Manor before Christmas."
Scorpius gave him a half-hearted smile and a nod. He picked up his trunk with determination, gesturing for Albus to lead the way off the train. Rose had disappeared while Albus was speaking to Scorpius, her impatience getting the better of her.
"It's not that I don't want to go to your house," Scorpius said as they fought their way through the students that remained on the train. "It's my dad that's bothering me. I hate thinking about him alone so close to Christmas, even if Grandmother is there."
Albus wished he could pause to look at Scorpius without blocking the flow of traffic, but he had to settle for a quick glance and a grin.
"I know it is," he said. "But he'll be happy to see you at Christmas, and then you'll get to spend loads of time with him before we go back."
"Thanks, Albus," Scorpius whispered, his voice almost lost in the noise of the platform that they'd descended upon.
Albus turned around to make sure that Scorpius was still with him, keeping him close as he maneuvered the short distance to his family. Rose and Lily had already joined his parents, aunt, and uncle.
Ginny spotted them first, her eyes lighting up as she rushed forward and pulled Albus into an embrace.
"Al!" she exclaimed. "Oh, it's good to see you."
She continued fussing over him, while Harry hovered and offered a smile to Scorpius, who had no idea what to do with himself.
"How are you, Scorpius?" Harry asked.
Scorpius smiled back, not quite able to look at Harry's face.
"I'm good, Mr Potter. Thanks for asking."
Before either of them could say anything more, Ginny had finished greeting Albus and was standing in front of Scorpius, beaming down at him.
"Scorpius, how are you?" she asked, reaching out, after the slightest moment of hesitation, to place both of her hands on his shoulders.
Scorpius found it somewhat easier to look at her than it had been Harry. He smiled again and said, "I'm good, Mrs Potter. Thanks for asking."
Ginny watched him for a second as if deciding what the best course of action would be and then pulled him in for a hug. Scorpius stiffened at first, not having expected such a greeting, but after a moment, he reminded himself to hug her back. He didn't completely relax, but he was grinning nervously as Ginny pulled away, and she, thankfully, didn't continue to fuss over him as she had done Albus.
James had the good fortune of appearing through a space in the crowd just as Ginny was backing away from Scorpius. He was immediately caught up in his mother's arms, and as soon as he was done hugging Albus, Harry moved to follow her.
Albus took a step towards Scorpius, allowing their arms to brush.
"It's not too bad so far, is it?"
"Your mum hugged me," Scorpius said as if Albus hadn't seen.
"Yeah, I know." Albus laughed. "She likes to do that."
"But," Scorpius stumbled over his words, "she hardly even knows me."
Albus smiled, throwing an arm over Scorpius's shoulders and beginning to lead him closer to his family.
"You're my best friend," he said. "She knows you make me happy, so that means that she automatically likes you. Congratulations, you're in the good graces of Ginny Potter. Her bad graces are not a good place to be. You'll see what I mean the first time James gets in trouble. It won't take long."
XXX
It didn't take long. It took an hour, give or take a few minutes before Ginny was shouting for James in Grimmauld Place. He'd "accidentally" dropped a dung bomb in the stairwell not far from his parents' room, and Ginny's tirade was carried out during a coughing fit.
Much of the few days that followed were peaceful, with James getting in trouble a little less than normal. It was enough that his parents were growing suspicious.
Lily had taken the new, if temporary, addition to their household as her entertainment for the holidays.
"Lily," Albus complained with a groan. "You've got to stop coming in here without knocking."
She ignored him, settling herself onto his bed. She hardly glanced at him, looking instead at Scorpius, who was the real reason she suddenly wanted to visit Albus's room at all hours of the day.
"I have a game we can play," she declared.
"Nothing you'll want to play will actually be fun." Albus ignored her glare. "It'll be one of those stupid sleepover games that you learned at school."
"If you're talking about the Muggle game Never Have I Ever that Gina taught me, that's not what this is. Though that's a fun game too," she added under her breath.
She pulled out a deck of cards that held a logo that Albus recognized immediately.
"No," he declared. "Absolutely not."
"What is it?" Scorpius asked.
The cards were a sort that were unfamiliar to him. They certainly weren't Exploding Snap.
"A product of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes," Lily declared. "Uncle Ron made me an official game tester. Paid in games, sweets, and the occasional sickle or two."
Albus eyed the cards with wariness.
"And how much have they already been tested?" he asked.
"I have no idea what Uncle Ron did with them before he gave them to me."
She scoffed at Albus's hesitation.
"Relax. They won't do anything dangerous. It's not that kind of game."
"Then what kind of game is it?" he asked Lily.
This was the question she had been waiting for. Her face broke into a wide smile, and she leaned forward, hastily gathering up the cards that she had laid on the bed to better show them to the boys.
"Uncle Ron said he got the idea from a Muggle game–"
"So it is a Muggle game."
Lily glared.
"Not really," she insisted. "Uncle Ron said he got the idea from a Muggle game called Truth or Dare that Aunt Hermione mentioned to him."
"Truth or Dare?" Scorpius repeated.
He made it sound like it were the name of some terrifying creature.
Lily hummed in acknowledgement.
"It's a game where each person has to choose truth or dare, and then another player makes them answer one question truthfully or do a dare."
"That sounds like a rubbish game," Albus complained.
Though Muggles undoubtedly retained the ability to lie during such a game, he'd already guessed what the enchantments on Uncle Ron's game entailed.
"We're not going to play some game where we just have to tell the truth or do something stupid."
Lily ignored him, continuing with an explanation of the rules.
"Some of the cards are truth and some of them are dare, but they're all enchanted. Once you draw a truth card, you have to answer the question. Uncle Ron said it should only make you answer that one question, but he wants me to make sure that it doesn't force anyone to start blabbing all their secrets. That's not quite the point of the game."
"Lily, no," Albus said.
The last thing he needed was admitting to everything in front of not only Scorpius but his little sister.
"I'm not playing some game that may backfire and force me to tell my entire life's story."
"Entire life's story?"
She threw her head back in a laugh.
"Don't worry, Al. You can't have done anything that interesting. Me and Scorpius would ignore you telling us about the time you decided to eat the ham at dinner instead of the chicken."
He bit his tongue. Scorpius was twisting the sleeves of his jumper around in his hand as he watched them.
"Scorp," Albus said gently, "we don't have to play. Trust me, I don't want to."
The blonde boy glanced at Lily, looking as intimidated by her as he had been by Rose in the early days of their friendship, but when he looked at Albus again, he had found resolve.
"I don't want to play," he admitted. "The dare cards, do they make you do things?"
Though the question was meant for Lily, Scorpius didn't look at her as he asked it. He was staring warily at the cards as if they might randomly explode much like in Exploding Snap.
"Yep," Lily replied, popping her 'p'.
Though Scorpius had guessed this, his eyes widened at the thought of it. Albus felt his own stomach tighten.
"That sounds scarily like the Imperius," he pointed out. "Is it legal to do something like that?"
"Uncle Ron said it was different. The card's not controlling you. What it does is gradually make you itch more and more until it's uncontrollable. He said it would take either doing the task or going to St Mongo's for the itching to go away."
"That sounds very unpleasant," Scorpius muttered.
Lily looked at him as if he were stupid.
"That's why you do the task," she pointed out. "None of them are 'commit murder' or anything."
"Then what are the tasks?" Albus asked.
Lily shrugged. She pulled one of the cards off the deck that had "DARE" written across the back. When she flipped it around and held it in front of them, they could see that the other side was blank aside from a purple background design and a golden frame around the edges.
"The questions and dares are invisible until you draw the card in the game. Uncle Ron says there are more options than there are cards too, so sometimes a card is one thing and sometimes it's another."
She slid the card back and unnecessarily shuffled the deck. Scorpius and Albus watched the cards as she did so, feeling an intense distrust towards them. When Lily looked back up and saw their faces, she rolled her eyes.
"It won't be bad. It's a game. It's meant to be fun."
"Who wants to go into a game with no idea what sort of stupid stuff they're going to have to do?" Albus asked. "I don't want to wind up at St. Mongo's because those cards made me jump off the roof or something."
"Please, Al, that wouldn't even be fun to watch. They're much more likely to make you sing along to Celestina Warbeck."
"That's not comforting."
"Nothing is for you," she complained, looking truly put out by that fact.
She began gathering up the cards, slipping them back into the box they'd been packaged in.
"I'll go convince James to play with me. Even though it won't be nearly as fun with only two people."
She shot them one last look that managed to be both scolding and hopeful before she slipped out of the bedroom in the direction of James's room.
XXX
Scorpius gasped the second he stepped out of the fireplace and into the living room of the Burrow. Travelling by floo was always an overwhelming experience, with so much rushing by you at such quick speeds; Scorpius was always thankful when it was over. But tumbling into the Burrow felt an awful lot like not leaving the floo at all.
He didn't noticed that Albus was still standing nearby until the shorter boy tugged on his arm, pulling him away from the fireplace before Ginny came tumbling out.
"Hi, Scorpius," Rose greeted him, suddenly standing in front of him.
"Hi," Scorpius replied.
He didn't look at her for long, too distracted by the other people crowded into such a small space.
Logically, Scorpius had known how large the Weasley family was, and he'd thought he'd prepared himself for seeing them all together. As it turned out, he hadn't. His mind hadn't had the previous experience necessary to picture a family gathering like this. There was hardly room for anyone to move around.
"It's like Hogwarts but with less space," Scorpius whispered, causing Albus to grin.
Rose had been sucked back into a conversation with Dominique and wasn't paying attention to them. It really was a lot like the Great Hall; people were having conversations everywhere, making it difficult to make anything out as the voices merged into one sound.
"I guess," Albus said. "I'd never thought of it like that before. I know my family is a lot bigger than yours."
Scorpius's smile dimmed as he thought of his father in Malfoy Manor. His grandmother was there, too, of course, but it still left him feeling sad. Sometimes the Manor felt like Hogwarts in size. It wasn't really, but it did give that impression from the inside until you explored the lengths of it and found where it ended. Yet it never held as many people as the Burrow currently was.
"It's different," Scorpius said. "Everything is."
He didn't explain further; he didn't think he could. This is what Albus was used to, and just like Scorpius had been unable to picture this before seeing it, he wouldn't have been able to accurately describe what his own family was like in a way that meant much to Albus.
Albus grinned softly, reaching out to wrap a hand around Scorpius's wrist.
"Come on," he said. "This is always the loudest room in the house."
He pulled Scorpius through the doorway on the far side of the room. They emerged into the kitchen, a room that was populated only by adults. Many of them seemed to be taking advantage of the relative quiet to talk, but several were helping Molly Weasley with their dinner, hurrying around the kitchen as this dish and that needed something done to it.
Albus kept pushing Scorpius through the room as Molly scolded George for not being careful with the knife he was holding.
"We're going outside," Albus said over his shoulder once he and Scorpius were already standing before the door.
There were murmured acknowledgments from several of the adults, including Albus's parents. Even Mrs. Weasley managed to throw, "Dinner'll be ready in a few minutes, dears," over her shoulder before something began hissing. Albus pushed the door open and hurried Scorpius into the back garden, shutting the door firmly behind them.
Scorpius took in the landscape. There was plenty of land behind the Burrow, but it didn't very much fit what a garden was in his experience. The grounds of Malfoy Manor were perfectly groomed to the point that you were afraid to step off any of the paths, lest you ruin something.
The Burrow wasn't like that. The grass was scattered with dead spots as a result of being trampled by too many feet. In some places, the dirt even showed. The hedges that lined the space, if they had been at Malfoy Manor, would have given his grandmother Narcissa a heart attack before she fired the gardeners. As he looked at them, Scorpius saw a gnome peeking out from underneath one. He smiled. He'd only seen a gnome once, and his report of it had led to a gardener being sent out immediately to 'take care of the infestation'.
Scorpius was so busy taking in the sight that he didn't notice at first that Albus had sat on a low brick wall that lined the garden. Scorpius followed, though the cold of the brick spread easily through his jeans.
They were facing away from the house, staring out at the land behind the Burrow. It wasn't much, but Scorpius appreciated how calm it felt. Perhaps it was because they had come from the house, and being free from the noise that had clogged his ears was a relief.
"It's nice out here," he said.
His words startled Albus, who had settled into the silence. He glanced at Scorpius with one eyebrow raised before answering.
"I guess so. I'm not out here much to be honest. Spending any time outside around this family means being roped into Quidditch matches that you don't want to participate in."
"It's nice that they want you to play with them."
"Maybe," Albus said. "Only to even out the numbers though. They need the teams to have the same number of players for it to be fair."
Scorpius watched Albus while Albus continued to stare towards the orchard where those Quidditch games had taken place.
"I bet that's not the only reason," Scorpius said, doing his best to make his voice upbeat and happy. "They want you to play."
"No, they don't," Albus insisted. "They're too competitive for that. Everyone in the family is in it to win except for me. That's the real reason I'm such a liability for whichever team I end up on. The need to win trumps everything else, even family, during a match."
While Albus was frowning, Scorpius found himself grinning at the thought of it. He could picture it easily in his mind, the Weasley cousins arguing over plays because there was no referee.
"That sounds quite nice."
Albus shot him a strange look. He was utterly perplexed by Scorpius's smile.
"Nice?" he repeated. "It sucks. Come on. You don't like Quidditch anymore than I do. You'd hate being forced to play all summer long."
Scorpius shrugged. He was also looking towards the orchard now, though he was wistful.
"Maybe I wouldn't if I had cousins who wanted me to play with them."
He paused for a moment, his grin fading.
"If I'd had people to play with growing up, maybe I'd like playing Quidditch. I never really had the chance to play, since there was no one to play with. Dad would offer to throw around a Quaffle sometimes, but that wasn't the same thing."
"Well, if you want to test the theory, then I'm sure there'll be a game that they'll let you participate in."
"Me?" Scorpius asked, eyes wide. "Do you really think they'd let me? I'm not good at it."
"They make me play," Albus pointed out. "I don't see why letting you play would be any different. Actually, I'm sure they'd be nicer to you. Maybe you being there would keep Roxanne from ramming James off his broom."
Scorpius gasped. "Has that actually happened?"
"She's come close once or twice, but James has always managed to hold on. Teddy mastered levitation spells years ago to make sure James didn't die."
Scorpius shook his head in disbelief.
"I have no idea what it's like to have a family like that," he said. "It sounds so...strange. Almost abnormal."
Albus turned slightly away from him.
"My family's never been normal."
"Albus," Scorpius said, scooting closer, "I didn't mean that as a bad thing. I meant it as a good one. I think it's cool. Actually, it's fascinating."
Just as Albus was about to respond, the door to the kitchen opened. The two boys turned around, hearts racing as they tried to see who had come to disturb them. Albus breathed easier upon seeing the smiling face of Teddy.
"I was told that the two of you were out here," Teddy said, stepping out and letting the door fall shut behind him.
Scorpius fidgeted next to Albus. He and Teddy had never actually met.
Teddy's smile softened when he saw that Scorpius was nervous. Once he'd approached, he stuck out his hand.
"Hi, I'm Teddy Lupin."
Scorpius nodded, returning the handshake.
"Scorpius Malfoy, nice to meet you."
"You too," Teddy said. "I don't have much family by blood."
Scorpius blushed.
Albus wasn't sure that Draco had ever properly met Andromeda, even in the years since the war. Scorpius had mentioned in passing before that his grandmother still felt anger towards her only living sister, though Andromeda had never so much as alluded to Narcissa around Albus.
Teddy had mentioned his interest in getting to know Albus's best friend who was also his second cousin, but there had never been an opportunity for the two of them to come face-to-face.
"I'm meant to tell you to come inside for dinner," Teddy said, motioning to the door over his shoulder. "Come on."
He turned back to the door, holding it open for the two younger boys to enter.
Molly had sent Teddy for them before the other children, or maybe Teddy himself had been eager to meet his cousin, as there were only adults gathered around the table. The cooks had sat down except for Molly, who was placing the last dish onto the table when Albus and Scorpius arrived.
Teddy had gone directly for the table, reaching it before Albus and Scorpius. There was an empty chair beside him that he motioned for Scorpius to take. Scorpius did so without argument. Albus had little choice but to take the empty chair between Scorpius and his mother.
Scorpius's eyes had almost permanently widened as he stared around the kitchen.
Molly stuck her head into the living room and called, "Dinner time!"
There was a rush of commotion in the living room. Scorpius, who had been convinced the family couldn't get any louder, stiffened, and Albus set this hand on his arm to comfort him.
With his other hand, he began scooping mashed potatoes onto his plate.
"Start getting what you want now," he urged Scorpius. "It's everyone for themselves."
It was so overwhelming that Scorpius didn't know what to do. The other Weasley cousins took their places around the table and were scooping massive amounts of food onto their plates, as were their parents. Everyone spoke happily while doing so, but there were more than a few conflicts over who had reached for a particular platter first. Scorpius couldn't get past his fear that, if he reached for anything, he would be one of those engaged in conflict. He didn't want that.
He had resolved himself to waiting for everyone else to get their food first when Albus waved the platter of roast in front of him.
"Take as much as you want," he said.
Scorpius hesitantly did so. He felt a bit like he was on display despite everyone else doing the same as him. He was the outsider at this dinner, which surely meant that everyone would be watching him. He didn't look up at them to confirm his worries.
Albus kept passing him food once he'd scooped some onto his own plate. He even handed Scorpius the peas despite not taking any for himself. Scorpius's stomach fluttered, and he would have dropped the dish if Albus hadn't reached out to steady it. Scorpius tried to force a smile while his face blazed scarlet. He definitely felt like everyone was staring after that. Albus smiled at him, placing the peas between them so that Scorpius could scoop some onto his plate without worrying about holding the bowl.
Once he'd gotten his fair share, Scorpius hesitated for a moment over what to do, as there was no empty space on the table in front of him where he could place the bowl.
"You done with those?"
Rose's voice from across the table startled him.
"Oh, yes," Scorpius replied loud enough to attract the attention of several of the closest Weasleys.
He passed the peas to Rose, being especially careful not to drop them.
His plate was full, but it took a glance at Albus and seeing him already eating for Scorpius to do the same. It felt rude to begin eating before the other family members, and a quick glance around the table showed Scorpius that he was one of the last to touch his food.
The Weasleys were an interesting group to observe. He had always thought so, though he'd never had a chance to see the cousins with their parents and grandparents. A few of those around the table were entirely new faces to Scorpius.
The Weasley genes seemed to dominate amongst most of the cousins. They weren't all vibrant redheads as the Weasleys had once been. Quite a few of the children had inherited other hair colours from their non-Weasley parent. There were a variety of skin tones around the table too. Still, there was something about the cousins, though Scorpius couldn't pinpoint what, that immediately told you that they were related. Scorpius thought, after watching them for awhile, that it was their mannerisms that gave them away.
Everyone was talking with each other, which led to everyone eating at a slower pace than they would have otherwise. Scorpius thought of family meals with his grandmother, and his grandfather when he'd been alive. Narcissa ate slowly, but it wasn't because she was partaking in boisterous conversation. She thought it was proper to eat at such a pace, leading to slow movements and slow chewing and strange pauses between bites. She would always be the last to finish. That wasn't what Scorpius was witnessing here.
There were many conversations going on at once, yet Scorpius felt a desire to keep up with each and every one. His eyes darted up and down the table, getting fragments of sentences without being able to interpret their meanings. Albus, for his part, looked quite bored. He was halfheartedly listening to Dominique's long winded explanation for why her most recent History of Magic essay had been unfairly graded. Her argument was long the lines of, "Professor Binns is outdated in his views on certain events despite a new interpretation being the most accepted in the modern historian community."
At the far end of the table, Hermione was telling Percy and Arthur about a particularly angry wizard who wouldn't stop demanding meetings with her despite not having gone through the proper channels.
Fleur, who Scorpius had never met before and was infinitely curious about due to her veela blood, was asking Molly for advice about the new vegetables she wanted to grow in her garden come spring.
"Which ones would be the best to plant, do you think? We have so little good soil living near the beach."
Scorpius looked back down at his plate, overwhelmed by it all. He didn't know how they were talking to each other and not getting distracted by the other conversations around them. He focused on eating his food, trying not to get drawn in by it again.
Most of the food on his plate was gone by the time the conversations had merged to a point that was less overwhelming. Hermione, it seemed, could gather the attention of the adults when she talked about particularly important Ministry issues.
She was careful in what she said, never revealing anything classified, but she was, without a doubt, a treasure trove of information for anyone who wanted to know what was going on in wizarding politics within Britain or even abroad.
Scorpius found it fascinating and was hardly able to focus on finishing his carrots.
"Hopefully, it won't shape up to be a big deal," she was telling them.
Her own plate was pushed away from her, having been finished ten minutes ago.
"The only problem is the Rowle family. They're not happy with how they're being treated these days. No one will take them seriously. It was their own fault they became Death Eaters. They have no real allies. Others in similar positions are too intent on distancing themselves from the past."
"The Rowles aren't the smartest of the old group, are they?"
George sounded far more amused about the situation than Hermione.
"Their intelligence has nothing to do with it," Hermione replied, frowning. "They feel insulted, and that makes people angry, often to the point of them being unreasonable. I'd never in a million years defend them. They were attacking people like me. What I am saying is that they're in a space of mind where they can't be reasoned with, least of all with the likes of me."
Harry, who was on the same side of the table as Hermione but with five people between them, leaned forward to better look at the Minister.
"And you don't think anything can be done to quiet them?" he asked. "Because they've begun harassing the Department of Magical Law Enforcement too, Hermione. They want compensation for the raids on their house. Never mind that we found plenty of illegal items to justify the searches. They say they were unlawfully conducted."
"Rubbish," Bill said, voice raised in anger. "No justification, my arse. They were openly aligned with Voldemort. No one could say that wasn't plenty of justification. It was agreed upon after the war that all known Death Eaters would have their property searched."
"Which is what I tell them every time," Harry said, "but they won't accept the answer. To them, that agreement was against their rights. They keep threatening me with the Wizengamot."
"They've tried that," Hermione cut in. "But they don't have the justification to call a trial. Each time they've been turned down, they've threatened to take the Wizengamot to trial for not listening to them, but of course, their case is hopeless. They'll never see the inside of a courtroom. Not as the plaintiffs at least."
"I don't get it," Ron said.
He was one of the few people at the table still eating. A forkful of pudding hung in his hand.
"All these Death Eaters, they know they're not going to get their way, yet they act like they have a chance."
"They're the old families," Arthur reminded his son. "The Sacred Twenty-Eight. I know that title means nothing to the young witches and wizards of today, but in my childhood, it meant a lot to most of the families listed. It gave them a complex. When you've been told that your family is superior from the time you're born, it messes with how you view the world. It's near impossible to take that out of someone's head."
"We're lucky our family didn't take that route," Percy scoffed. "Imagine if we were pompous enough to believe we were above the law."
"Yeah, imagine a Weasley being pompous," George muttered.
Percy couldn't hear him, but a number of people at the table could, creating stifled laughter. Percy looked at them oddly but seemed to think little of it.
Scorpius managed to giggle along with the others through his discomfort. His eyes were skirting around the various Weasleys, waiting for one of them to look at him with accusation in their eyes. Albus reached out, touching his arm and causing Scorpius to jump. He heard Rose stifle a snort, but he didn't pay much attention as Albus's hand slipped into his, offering a squeeze of comfort.
"Is there any way you can force them to stop pestering the Ministry?" Angelina asked.
Hermione shook her head.
"At this point, I've exhausted my options. There comes a point where I have to decide where my priorities lie. I've always wanted to be an open Minister, as accessible to the public as possible. If I were to change that for the sake of getting the Rowles off my back, I'm not sure I could live with myself, and there's nothing I can do to target them personally. They haven't broken any laws by filing useless Wizengamot complaints, even if they're wasting everyone's time."
"Even for a family such as theirs," Molly said, "this behavior is outrageous. The other Death Eater families haven't been this brash."
"A lot of them are in Azkaban," Harry pointed out. "Sure, most of them have family members who weren't closely connected enough to be imprisoned, but in many of those cases, they weren't as involved in the blood purity nonsense as their relatives. They've been more willing to adjust to a new status quo."
"What about the Malfoys?" said Ron, who had entirely forgotten about Scorpius's presence at the table.
Albus's hand tightened in Scorpius's as he stiffened, watching Ron with alarm.
"They were some of Voldemort's most loyal, and they haven't been as insufferable as the Rowles."
"Ron," Hermione groaned.
She was looking at Scorpius with a sympathetic gaze that made him feel almost as uncomfortable as Ron's words had.
Ron followed her line of sight, and when his eyes landed on Scorpius, he looked regretful. Scorpius averted his eyes to the table.
"Sorry," Ron muttered, the word barely audible. "I didn't mean that as an insult. If anything, it was a compliment. It's the Rowles who are the nutters."
Scorpius cringed.
"Truthfully, your dad has shocked me, you know? He was a right prat when we were kids, and he's still kind of a prat, but he's somewhat decent now, which is more than I expected. With Lucius Malfoy dead, your family's not that bad anymore. Not really."
He trailed off awkwardly. Scorpius couldn't bear to look up from the table.
"Ron," Ginny growled, causing her brother to cringe.
There was a sound of a chair scraping across the floor and then Ginny was standing behind Scorpius placing a hand on his shoulder.
"My brother is a prat."
It was little more than a whisper, but the room was quiet enough that everyone heard her.
Ron almost protested, but a hit on the arm by Charlie shut him up.
"I think dinner's over," Molly announced.
She stood and began gathering empty dishes into her arms.
"Whoever is kind enough to help with the washing, we should get started if we want to be done working before midnight. Everyone else, you can run along."
The teenagers took that as their opportunity to escape. Scorpius chanced a look around and was surprised to see a few of those who had stayed to help, including Teddy and Victoire. Even Ron was gathering dirty plates, but judging by the way his wife was watching him, that was more of a punishment for what he'd said than altruism.
"Are you okay, Scorpius?" Ginny asked him quietly, drawing his attention back to her.
He nodded, trying to offer her a reassuring smile. Though she wasn't convinced, she backed away from him, beginning to help with the clearing of the table.
Albus's hand was still holding his, and Scorpius had no intention of letting go. He wasn't yet ready to get up from the table, though he felt bad for making the others work around him. Molly reached over him for his plate, offering him a kind smile.
"Some of my children have trouble thinking through their words before they speak," she told him. "What allows me to sleep at night is knowing that they have good intentions at the end of the day, even when they struggle to show it."
At this comment, she sent a pointed look at George, surprisingly, instead of Ron. The man offered his mother a grin. He was the only one, aside from Albus and Scorpius, still sitting at the table but not helping with the clean up.
"I knew you always saw into our hearts, Mum."
He was leaning his chair on its back legs, and Ron took the opportunity to grab ahold of it as he walked in from the living room, pulling the chair back far enough for George to yelp and flail his arms. The room erupted in laughter, and as soon as Ron had placed the chair back on the ground, George turned to glare at his younger brother.
Scorpius found himself smiling, some of his anxiety dissipating. His smile faded, however, as Ron moved closer to him and Albus.
He scratched the back of his neck as he stood above them. The tips of his ears were bright red. Scorpius didn't notice, but most of the Weasleys in the room had turned away from them, giving some semblance of privacy as they talked amongst themselves.
"Rosie gave me a scolding that was as good as her mother's usual," Ron said, sinking into the chair beside Scorpius that Teddy had previously occupied. "I'm not good at words."
Ron paused, taking a deep breath.
"I may still hold a grudge against your father. You have to understand that he was a right git to us at school. It's nothing against you, kid. Rosie has nothing but nice things to say about you, and I gather you're different. I gather that Malfoy is somewhat different these days too, though I have a hard time believing all of that."
Scorpius had no idea what to say. His throat had closed up. He turned to look at Albus, nudging at his arm in a silent request.
"It's okay, Uncle Ron," Albus said, offering a smile that looked only partially genuine. "I think Scorpius understands?"
He said the last sentence as if it were a question, looking to Scorpius for confirmation. Scorpius nodded, looking towards the table instead of at Ron.
Ron cleared his throat and stood.
"Good."
He hesitated for a moment, almost walking out of the kitchen before thinking better of it.
"I'm happy that Rosie befriended you," he admitted, perhaps hoping that his family wouldn't hear. "She's fond of you, and I like that she has as good of friends as I had at school."
With that, he disappeared into the living room. Scorpius wondered if Ron had felt as strong of a need to escape the situation as he did. The few adults lingering in the kitchen were occupying themselves with the dishes at the sink, not looking at Scorpius and Albus.
"Come on," Albus urged, not letting go of Scorpius's hand as he stood.
Scorpius hurried to follow, but still feeling nervous, he caught his foot on one of the chair legs and almost fell. Albus helped him extract himself from the situation and hurried him out the door, not bothering to say anything to the adults, including his mother, huddled by the sink.
They sat down in the same spot they'd sat in earlier, but it had grown dark. The trees in the distance were nothing but dark shapes against the sky. The moon, however, was bright, and Scorpius was more than happy to find the same familiar constellations hanging above the Burrow as over Malfoy Manor.
Albus's gaze followed Scorpius's to the sky. They did stargazing in Astronomy, but that was methodical and prescribed. The curfew at Hogwarts had always meant that they'd never sat back and leisurely looked at the stars together.
"Where's the one that you're named after?" Albus asked.
He'd always been rubbish at Astronomy, unable to make out how particular stars connected when they all looked like random dots in the sky. Scorpius, however, was a natural at finding the patterns, capable of seeing them as easily as if lines had been drawn to connect them.
"That one there," he said, pointing towards the scorpion in the sky.
Albus squinted, having trouble seeing how the stars could be arranged into anything, even with Scorpius's finger tracing it out.
"It doesn't seem very scorpion-like," Albus said, wondering if that was because he was looking at the wrong stars.
Scorpius giggled.
"It's not, but you have to give it to the Greeks for having imagination. Native Hawaiians call the same constellation Māui's fishhook—Māui's a demigod in their religion. And the Javanese say it's a leaning coconut tree."
Albus had a newfound interest in the constellation as he stared at it with squinted eyes.
"What do you think it most looks like?" he asked Scorpius.
Scorpius shrugged.
"I've been told it's a scorpion since I was a baby, so I can see that best."
"But you said it didn't look like a scorpion."
"Not in a realistic sense," Scorpius said with a grin, "but you can make it into a scorpion in the abstract sense."
Albus gave a short laugh.
"I think it would be cool to be named after a constellation."
"Not as cool as being named after one of the greatest wizards who ever lived."
Albus's smile fell, and Scorpius felt a rush of panic that he'd said the wrong thing.
"Less pressure though," Albus muttered.
Scorpius scooted closer, his arm pressing against Albus's.
"Did you ever think about how both of our names are Latin?" Scorpius asked, desperately wanting to rectify his mistake.
"No," Albus said, "I hadn't."
"Well, they are, and I think that's pretty neat."
Albus laughed.
"I suppose it is."
They were quiet for a few moments before Scorpius asked, "You can find Polaris, can't you?"
"Um."
Albus's eyes roved over the night sky until he hesitantly raised a finger in the general direction of one of the brighter stars.
"There?"
"Astronomy has truly failed you," Scorpius lamented. "Or you've failed it. One or the other."
He took hold of Albus's wrist, moving his hand until he was pointing in the direction of the actual North Star.
"Whoops," Albus said, unable to contain his laughter.
Scorpius began giggling too. Neither of them were able to talk for several long minutes.
XXX
True to all of the Christmas holidays that Albus could remember, frequent visits to the Burrow were a staple. Scorpius came along to the first two before he went off to Malfoy Manor to spend Christmas with his father and grandmother.
While Albus knew it was important that Scorpius spend time with his family, he couldn't help but pout over losing his best friend. His cousins let him do so without saying much until Teddy interrupted him one day.
Teddy had been in Albus's life since he was born and had always been an older brother. In many ways, he felt like more of a stereotypical big brother than James did. He always intervened whenever something seemed wrong with Albus.
So he wasn't surprised when Teddy sat down beside him on the same brick wall that he had occupied with Scorpius several days before.
"It's been a long time since I've seen mopey Albus," Teddy said, shooting Albus a grin.
Albus couldn't help but smile back.
"I'm not mopey," he insisted. "I'm thinking."
The latter statement, at least, was true. He had been thinking. He had been thinking constantly since early last summer, the same thoughts whirling around in his head over and over. The answers he wanted were unattainable. He couldn't figure out why. It shouldn't have been so complicated.
"Where's Victoire?" Albus asked. "Surely, she came with you."
Mentioning Victoire usually put Teddy in a good mood, especially since their wedding, which was why Albus was struck to see that Teddy grimaced at the question.
"She's inside talking to Molly," he replied. "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing exciting," Albus said. "What's up with you?"
Teddy sighed, accepting defeat.
"It's not that big of a deal," he insisted. "There's a lot going on, and you know the holidays are more hectic than any other time of the year. Patience gets thin; people snap at each other. It's to be expected."
"Who's snapping at who?" Albus asked. "There hasn't been a fight all day. That's remarkable really."
One side of Teddy's mouth quirked upwards, but he didn't actually smile.
"It is," he agreed. "But you do see what I mean, right? There's plenty of arguing around Christmas. If there's a time of year for people to get cross with each other, it's now."
"I guess so, but I still don't get what you're going on about. Who's lost their temper?"
Teddy scrapped his food against the grass.
"Victoire and I are going through a lot right now."
"You are Victoire are fighting? You and Victoire? The most perfect couple there is?"
"We've never done anything to deserve being called–"
"How can you and Victoire be fighting? That shouldn't be possible."
Teddy didn't answer at first. Albus didn't like the look he gave him, one that showed that Teddy thought his comment had been naive.
"Everyone fights, Al. The only way to avoid it is to not talk to anyone. Victoire and I have always argued."
"But this is different."
Albus knew it was. He'd never seen Teddy look this worried or unsure of himself. Whatever he was telling Albus, he wasn't entirely convinced by it. His usually vibrant hair was a shade or two lighter, closer to his natural hair colour, now that Albus was looking closely, and his skin seemed paler, though that might not have had anything directly to do with his metamorphmagus abilities.
"Kind of. It's really not that big of a deal. It's only that it came to a head last night, so it's fresh. I shouldn't be pushing this on you; you're only a kid."
"I'm fourteen," Albus replied with indignation.
"And I'm an adult. I shouldn't be sharing my marriage problems with a teenager."
Albus shivered as a particularly sharp wind blew around them. Teddy seemed impervious to it.
"You'll be alright in the end though, right?" Albus asked.
He'd never given Teddy and Victoire's relationship much thought. Even before they'd been together, most of the family had been waiting for it to happen. They'd been inseparable since before Albus was born. Once they were dating, it was assumed that they'd get married and be together forever. Or at least that was what Albus had assumed.
Teddy shook his head, not able to look Albus in the eyes, but when he said, "We'll be fine," Albus could tell that, if nothing else, he was determined to make it true.
"It's just a normal argument, Albus," Teddy said. "Nothing about it is going to ruin our marriage; I can promise you that."
Suddenly, Albus found it easier to breathe.
"That's good," he said.
He felt as if he should do something comforting, but he had no idea how to comfort someone who wasn't Scorpius.
"I can't imagine what the holidays would be like if you two weren't together anymore. It would be unbearable."
He paused, his face looking stricken as he realized something.
"Teddy, you would still come over if something happened between you and Victoire, right?"
Teddy gave a short laugh. It was the first time he'd been amused since he had sat down.
"Luckily, we don't have to worry about that. Don't lose sleep over it."
"I'll try not to," Albus replied, only half joking. He couldn't get rid of the part of him that was worried. "Really though, what are you arguing about?"
"I don't want to say it out loud because, to be honest, it sounds stupid. Like I said, spend enough time with someone and eventually one of you gets frustrated and things are said and, well…"
He motioned in the air in front of him as if it meant something.
"Which one of you said something first?"
Teddy sighed, his shoulders drooping.
"Me, it was definitely me."
"How are you taking this so well?" Albus asked. "How are you confident that everything will work out? Is that what it's like when you meet 'the one'?"
He put air quotes around 'the one', causing Teddy to laugh.
"I was a mess earlier today," he admitted. "It was remembering something your dad said to me back when Victoire and I were engaged that helped."
"My dad?" Albus repeated in disbelief. "My dad gave you marriage advice?"
"I don't know why you're surprised," Teddy said with a smirk. "Your parents were my biggest example of married life when I was a kid, you realize. My parents are dead, and sure, Grandma can give me advice but I never got to see her with my grandad. There were your aunts and uncles, your grandparents too, but your parents are basically my best roadmap on how marriage is supposed to work."
Albus was silent for a moment, turning Teddy's words over in his head.
"What did he say to you?" he asked.
"He told me about what was going through his mind when he married Aunt Ginny. You know the Dursleys, who he never talks about?"
Albus nodded.
"He didn't tell me much about them, but he said that, growing up, their marriage was the only model he got and that it was a shitty one. He said something about how they seemed to love each other but that it seemed like they cared more about looking like a happy family or something like that."
That was more than Albus could recall being told about the Dursleys. All he knew was that they were his dad's aunt and uncle and that his dad hated them enough to never speak to them again after he was of age. It was enough that Albus would have been scared to meet them had the opportunity arose.
Teddy continued, "When he was getting ready to marry Aunt Ginny, he said he got nervous that he'd make a terrible husband because he didn't know how to be one. Apparently he panicked right before he had to go stand in front of the crowd, and it was Bill who clapped him on the shoulder and said, 'You've done something right so far. Just keep it up.'"
"So he just repeated Uncle Bill's advice to you." Albus snorted. "He didn't give you much."
Teddy shook his head, not mirroring Albus's smile.
"He said he didn't want me freaking out the same way he did because he got that I might, thinking that not having grown up with parents made me an idiot about marriage. He wanted to make sure I knew that wasn't the case. Because I knew what I was doing."
"That's not advice, Teddy. He just told you that you didn't need advice."
"Oh, no," Teddy said, shaking his head. "I needed advice. Still do. It's just that I had that advice there. I had plenty of people to ask for help. I hadn't realized that before."
They were quiet for a minute. Albus wasn't sure why remembering this had helped Teddy feel better about Victoire.
"One day it'll make sense," Teddy said, startling Albus.
He smirked at the younger boy.
"I know your girlfriend from last year broke up with you."
Albus scowled, still angry about how James had announced that to the entire family over the summer.
"But I never did hear why."
Albus debated with himself over what to say for a moment, frowning at the grass.
"She said that I didn't really like her."
He paused, tilting his head to the side.
"Actually, she said that I might like her but not like her enough. Because she thought I would, or did, like someone else more."
He said the last part hesitantly, watching Teddy for a reaction. He wasn't prepared for the knowing smile.
"She broke up with you because of Scorpius. I figured it was something like that. I just wondered if either of you'd figured out that that was why."
Albus bristled. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears.
"How do you know she was talking about Scorpius?"
When Teddy smiled again, it was with a hint of pity.
"It's obvious. I'm glad she picked up on it because a lot of other people your age might not have. Thinking back on it, it's incredible how oblivious teenagers can be to things like this."
"Things like what?"
"Feelings," Teddy said. "Sure, you feel plenty, but you think you've got interpreting it down, which is rarely true. Hell, I'm twenty-three, and I don't get my own emotions half the time. The difference is that I realize it now.
"The whole," he motioned erratically with his hands, "romance thing that teenagers do is when it's the most obvious. Everyone's dating, but no one knows how the ins and outs of relationships work yet, so you're flying by the seat of your robes. You have to if you're going to figure it out. It would be a wonder if there weren't bumps in the road. There's something instinctive about liking someone, loving them eventually, but you have to learn what the instincts mean, and that takes a surprisingly long time."
"Instincts?" Albus repeated in disbelief. "Teddy, you're making teenagers sound like animals or something. We have brains."
"So do animals," Teddy pointed out, "and we do have instincts too. That's a fact. You're not going to try and tell me that there isn't anything about who you like that goes back to instinct? Or maybe there's a better word… Hormones? Primal drives? I don't know. My knowledge of Muggle biology is limited at best, but you get what I mean. We naturally like people, but we we have to learn how to interpret what we feel. And we don't necessarily know how to act on our feelings even if we know what they are."
"I have no idea what you're saying, mate," Albus said.
Teddy sighed, shaking his head. He looked defeated with his shoulders was putting a lot of effort into this talk.
"I'm trying to help you have your grand realization without being obvious about it. Turns out I'm not good at being subtle and getting my point across."
"Apparently not. Because that wasn't subtle. That was just strange." He allowed himself a short laugh before he asked, "But what, exactly, am I supposed to be realizing?"
There was something nudging at his brain, trying to tell him that Teddy held the answers he'd spent months trying to find.
There were several moments where the silence dragged on. Albus watched Teddy, who's face shuffled through emotions as he argued with himself. Albus was destroying his remaining attempts at subtlety.
"It would be much more meaningful if you figured it out for yourself," Teddy muttered.
Albus didn't say anything in response. Teddy's eyes turned to look at him, analyzing his demeanor. He definitely knew something about what was going on in Albus's head.
"One thing I regret," Teddy said slowly, "is that I didn't come out to you lot years ago."
"What?" Albus asked in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
Adrenaline rushed through his veins, making his skin feel like it was vibrating. He was worried that he wouldn't be able to hear Teddy's next words due to shock.
"I'm bisexual," Teddy stated simply.
His worry had been replaced with a smile. His shoulders straightened.
"I realized it when I was in fifth year. Came out to Grandma at Christmas, your parents that next summer. Other than that, I didn't tell the rest of the family. Victoire knows, obviously. She knew before we were dating, but you have to understand, coming out is exhausting. After telling Grandma and your parents, I didn't want to immediately come out to you guys, so I put it off. Then it didn't feel as important; I wasn't hiding exactly, but I didn't say anything. So I never actually told you. I regret that. In a way, I always felt a bit guilty. I should tell the others."
"Bisexual," Albus repeated as if it were a foreign word and not one that he thought about constantly. "You don't just like girls?"
Teddy laughed.
"You managed to ask that as if the idea of it is mind blowing, but you and I both know that's not the case, right?"
Albus wished he could mirror Teddy's ease with which he discussed his sexuality. Inside, he was relieved, but he couldn't say he was happy. The thoughts that always whirled around his head were active, demanding so much of his attention that it was difficult to carry on a conversation at all.
"It kind of is," Albus admitted. "I mean, not really. It's not mind blowing that someone could like more than one gender. It's just…"
He hesitated before forcing himself to say it.
"It's more mind blowing that I know someone who does."
"Ah."
Teddy stretched his legs out in front of him.
"I get it. When I first realized how I felt, I didn't know anyone either, but one of my friends came out as bi before I did. That helped me more than she probably realizes. I'm sure I would have come to terms with it anyway, but being able to talk about it with someone else who feels the same way helps."
"Which is why you came out here to talk to me?"
"Right on the nose, Al."
Albus tilted his head up to the sky. For the first time in his life, he could remember exactly where the constellation Scorpius would be, though the sky was a bright, starless blue now. The stars seemed to shine in front of his eyes anyway. He felt a pang in his stomach.
"How did you know?"
He glanced over at Teddy, seeing his brow furrow.
"That I'm bisexual," he clarified.
He stumbled over the word, his stomach sloshing with the knowledge that he'd said it aloud for the first time. Teddy beamed, which only increased Albus's nerves.
"So you're admitting it now?"
"It's not like…"
Albus paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
"I've known for months, I think. My brain just had trouble accepting it. The problem wasn't that I didn't want to be bi. It was more that I didn't know if I had a right to call myself anything. Because what if I actually liked boys more or I actually liked girls more or something like that? What if I said I was bi but then wasn't and had just been confused? I didn't want to say I was something and then be wrong, even to myself."
"I get it."
When Albus scoffed, Teddy raised an eyebrow.
"I do," he insisted, voice rising in slight irritation. "Believe it or not, Al, your experience isn't a unique one. It might be downright common."
"There's no way bisexual people are ever this confused. I don't know if you fully understand the mess that has been my brain for months."
"I do because mine was the same way when I was your age."
"How did you know then?" Albus asked. "If you were so confused, what made you comfortable saying that you're bi?"
"Lots of little things."
There was a grin on his lips as he thought of the past.
"A few of my friends came out, both as gay and as bi, and I talked to them about how they felt and how they knew. Mostly, though, them coming out made it feel less scary. Once my own feelings were less scary, it was easier to make sense of it all."
"That you liked all genders?"
"Yep," Teddy agreed. "Don't worry about how long it takes you to get there. Everyone's different, but I promise that you will. And when you do, you'll feel...at peace with yourself. It's a wonderful feeling."
"I'm sure it is."
Albus couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, which caused Teddy's grin to soften. He placed one of his hands on Albus's shoulder, squeezing it briefly.
"Tonight put you a step closer, right?"
"I think so. I think I've accepted it. I just have to accept that I've accepted it. Merlin, that makes no sense."
Teddy laughed, clapping Albus's shoulder several times before withdrawing his hand.
"I promise you that it makes more sense to me than you think it does."
They fell into a surprisingly easy silence, Albus still staring where the Scorpius constellation had been the night before.
"Teddy," he said after a while, voice hesitant, "how were my parents when you came out to them?"
There was the knowing smile again.
"They were great," Teddy promised, voice firm and encouraging. "It was a bit awkward, I'll admit, but that was mostly because they were unprepared for it. Now they've had practice, it'll go smooth as butter for you. You're welcome."
Albus grinned.
"Thanks, Teddy."
"Come on."
Teddy stood from the wall, reaching a hand down to help Albus stand.
"It's freezing out here, and I'd rather not spend Christmas recovering from hypothermia."
"Are you a wizard or not?"
XXX
Grimmauld Place was decked to the nines for Christmas. On his last legs of life, Kreacher had a fervent need to prove to the family that he was still useful. Part of that need involved decorating the house to an extent never seen before. Almost every surface contained some type of decoration.
Wreaths hung on each door. Garland wrapped around the staircase. The tree brushed the high ceiling and held so many ornaments that magic kept the branches from drooping. Bows even hung on the walls in random places around the house, big gaudy ones that James and Albus had been unable to stop laughing at when they'd first seen them.
The house elf's sense of taste could stand to be improved, though he had least stuck to a red and green colour scheme that was safe.
Albus could hear Kreacher humming Christmas carols, of all things, while he dusted the portraits along the hallway. He shook his head to himself as he approached his father's home office door.
Though Harry had maintained this office since before Albus was born, it wasn't frequently used, as Harry never wanted to bring work home. The holidays were one exception when he chose to work at home under the pretense of spending more time with family while still getting some work done.
He surely hadn't been thinking about his youngest son interrupting him in order to come out when he'd invited them to interrupt him at any time, but it was as close to an invitation to do so as Albus was going to get. Lily was busy playing with the cat. James had gone off to Uncle George and Aunt Angelina's to spend time with Fred and Roxanne. As always, his mum was at the Prophet's offices during the crunch time of the daily news cycle.
Albus's way was free and clear to speak to his father without interruption.
Teddy may have been able to come out to Harry and Ginny at the same time, but Albus had decided that wasn't something he could handle. He had a hard time telling his parents much of anything as it was.
His heart pounded in his chest as he hovered out of sight of the doorway. He could hear Harry's quill scratching against parchment. There was a laziness to it, with his father taking his time shaping the letters to keep from moving on to more work.
Albus filled his lungs with air, imagining that it was confidence instead. He didn't give himself time to evaluate if it had worked before he reached up to wrack his knuckles against the doorframe at the same time as he stepped into view.
Harry glanced up, smiling at the sight of his son. Albus tried to smile back, but it came out strained.
"Hey," Harry greeted, laying down his quill.
"Hi."
Albus ran his palms against his trousers, trying to get rid of the sweat that had coated them.
"Can we talk for a few minutes?"
Harry knew that something was up. He was watching Albus with a close eye, as if he'd decided that he needed to be careful about what he said or did.
"Sure," he said.
He moved his quill and parchment to the side and watched Albus as he lowered himself into one of several chairs in the office.
The chair wasn't facing Harry's desk, as that had never been a feature needed in the office, and Albus didn't move it so that it was either. After a moment of indecision where neither of them said anything, Harry rose from his desk and grabbed another chair, pulling it around until it was across from Albus and a reasonable distance away for a conversation.
"What is it?"
"The past…"
Albus took a deep breath before continuing to speak.
"I guess the past year, I've been really, erm, confused about a lot of stuff. You see, er…"
He looked up at Harry.
"This is kind of a long story. I don't know if you want to listen to all of it. I can just–"
"Albus."
It was difficult due to the distance between them, but Harry leaned forward to place a hand on Albus's shoulder as he spoke.
"You can tell me the whole story."
Albus stared at him, eyes wide. Once he'd nodded, Harry sat back, removing his hand. Albus took another deep breath before continuing.
"You know how I was dating that girl, Eden, last year?"
He paused for Harry's nod.
"And she broke up with me?"
Another nod that Albus needed to keep going.
"I don't remember how much I told you about that."
"Nothing," Harry said softly. "It was your brother that told us you were dating and that she'd broken up with you, but that's all he said."
"I never said anything about why she broke up with me?"
Harry shook his head, though Albus didn't need it. He remembered that he had been adamant that his parents not know what had happened, even vaguely, in case they discovered the truth.
Albus cleared his throat. His hands shook until he clasped them together in his lap.
"Eden broke up with me."
He glanced up at Harry for a reaction, but all he got was a small smile. He looked back down at his lap as he continued.
"She broke up with me because she thought I liked someone else."
Another glance at Harry. The same smile was still on his lips, but there was a new sense of amusement to the way it quirked up at the corner. His eyes sparkled.
"Why do you look so happy about that?" Albus asked, feeling himself beginning to get angry.
Harry shook his head, trying to rearrange his features into a neutral expression. He was only partially successful. There was still a slight smile on his lips.
"That wasn't the reason I was expecting," Harry explained. "But did you know that the first girl I went on a date with stormed out because she thought I liked your aunt Hermione?"
"Really?" Albus asked, leaning forward in disbelief.
Harry nodded. His smile was back, and he laughed as he remembered.
"It was my fault. To me, it was obvious that Hermione was like my sister. I never expected anyone would think differently, which was probably stupid of me after that mess with Skeeter the year before."
That one Albus had heard about from Hermione's grumblings when they'd run into Skeeter at the World Cup.
"That was the year Umbridge was a professor and a lot of students thought I was lying about Voldemort. Hermione got me an interview with The Quibbler to clear my name. She scheduled it for the same Hogsmeade trip where I was supposed to go on a date with Cho Chang.
"Apparently, I was supposed to tell Cho about how badly I didn't want to go with Hermione but that I had to, which would have been true in all honesty. That wasn't what I said though, and when she heard that I had to meet with Hermione, things went sour. I'll leave it at that. I never got to explain to her that Rita Skeeter would be there too. Should have been obvious that she wouldn't set a good mood for a date."
"Nice going, Dad."
He'd never thought about his dad dating anyone before his mum. It was something from a distant past that Albus couldn't fully believe was real.
"You live and learn. Luckily, I never had your mum storm out of a date, so I must have learned something."
"Or she already knew when you were being stupid."
"That too," Harry agreed. "Cho and I did work it out for a bit, but it didn't last long. Her friend betrayed Dumbledore's Army."
He trailed off in thought, eyes focused on the wall above Albus's head.
"Long story," he concluded.
"But she realized that you didn't like Aunt Hermione in the end?"
Harry scratched at his chin.
"I think so," he said. "Now that I think about it, we never talked about it. It seemed to be understood."
Albus snorted, shaking his head.
"I guess that Eden never figured out the same thing?" Harry asked.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at Albus. The boy shifted uneasily under the scrutiny.
"She didn't," he said quietly. "We haven't talked since she broke up with me. She ignores me in class."
Albus cleared his throat before he continued speaking, and even so, the words sounded strangled.
"It was Scorpius. Who Eden said I liked, I mean."
Another nod, this time accompanied by a gentle smile.
"Was she right?" Harry asked in the same quiet voice that Albus had resorted to using.
Albus couldn't find the right words, so he nodded instead. At first, he thought that had been enough, that he wouldn't have to say anything else on the subject. He could leave, let Harry get back to business, and they'd both know what mattered. After what felt like a long moment of silence though, Albus found more words tumbling out of his mouth.
"When she first said it, I thought she was joking or using it as an excuse, but it was like she planted a seed in my brain. Maybe not a seed. The thoughts had already been there, but she forced me to look at them for the first time. It's hard to explain, Dad, because it still doesn't make sense to me all the way."
"What doesn't make sense?"
"I really did like Eden. She's not like Scorpius, obviously, but I liked her. Then she made me realize that maybe I did like Scorpius too, but that made me confused. Because if I liked both Eden and Scorpius but in different ways, then did I really like both of them or just one of them? Maybe I'd lied to myself about Eden or maybe I liked her in a way but not a 'real' way. Maybe that sounds stupid, but I thought it."
"It doesn't sound stupid, Albus."
Albus met Harry's eyes. He was suddenly unable to look away.
"You're just trying to make me feel better."
"I'm really not," Harry insisted.
He leaned back in his chair, sighing.
"Remember how stupid I was in the story I just told you? I was confused, too, when I was your age. I didn't understand a thing about romance or dating, and I thought of girls as almost...aliens, in a way. I was clueless. Of course, I'm not saying any of the confusion I went through is anything like what you did, but I do get what it's like to be a confused teenager."
There was something about Harry's tone that assured Albus that he was being honest. Teddy had been reassuring the day before—and Albus was beyond grateful to have someone in his life who had experienced what he was going through—but there was something about his dad saying he understood that brought tears to Albus's eyes.
He blinked rapidly, willing them to go away.
"Sorry," he said as Harry got up from his chair, moving closer though he had no idea what to do, hovering over Albus, hands out as if he thought he should be using them to comfort Albus somehow. "It's just, er, a relief to have said it."
Harry dropped his hands and squatted next to Albus's chair, making him look up at him.
"Am I the first person you've told?" Harry asked softly.
"Third." Albus sniffed. "Teddy talked to me about it yesterday, and Rose basically knows. Figured it out for herself."
"Ah, yes. I'm glad you were able to talk to Teddy."
Albus ran the sleeve of his jumper over his eyes, soaking up what tears he could. He felt somewhat calmer, enough so that the tears were already being replaced with a hesitant optimism. There was a new, settled feeling in his stomach.
"Scorpius doesn't know?" Harry asked.
Albus shook his head and took a deep breath.
"No," Albus whispered. "I feel like telling him about the bi thing might mean that he'd figure out I like him. Maybe I shouldn't be worried about it, but I think I'd be obvious."
Harry reached out to place his hand on Albus's shoulder.
"You don't think he likes you too?"
Albus shrugged, almost knocking Harry's hand away in the process.
"Things like that are impossible to tell with Scorpius. He liked Rose back in our first year, and I never realized until he asked her out."
"Scorpius asked out Rose?" Harry's voice rose in surprise. He tried to picture the scene in his mind, but it was impossible.
"Yeah, he did. During first year. I just said so."
"Really?"
Harry sat back in his chair.
"I never would have imagined."
"Well, it happened. Scorpius liked Rose, but she didn't like him and turned him down. Scorpius is over her, I think, but I swear I'm not making this up."
Harry had a strange look on his face as he watched his son.
"No," he said. "I didn't think you were making anything up. It's just hard for me to imagine. I've never thought that Rose was much of Scorpius's type."
"What do you mean?" Albus scoffed. "They're incredibly similar, Scorpius and Rose. They're always talking about books together in the library. I don't think there's anything between them, but I could see it. Isn't having the same interests supposed to be a good thing?"
"Yes, it is," Harry allowed. "But relationships often require, well, feelings, and I never got the impression that the two of them had those for each other."
"You didn't know what they were like together during first year though. Except through my letters."
"You're right, I didn't."
Harry seemed poised to say something else before he decided against it and changed the topic.
"Are you going to talk to him about it?" he asked, the gentleness returning to his voice.
"I don't know," Albus admitted.
"You need to focus on what's right for you," Harry said, "but I recommend that you talk to him about it. He's your best friend. He cares for you. That's obvious to anyone who's seen the two of you together. You're not going to tell him anything that scares him away."
"It's still embarrassing, isn't it? To tell someone you have feelings for them if they don't feel the same way?"
"It's terrifying, but do you know how many relationships there would be if no one ever admitted their feelings? Next to none. It's how all relationships start. I didn't know if your mum liked me or not before I kissed her in the middle of the common room, and look how that turned out."
Albus scrunched his nose in disgust.
"I don't need to hear that story again, Dad. Once was enough for a lifetime."
"It's not like it's anything graphic," Harry said with a smirk. "We didn't do anything but kiss. You've seen us do that loads of times."
"Yeah, and I'd rather not have. Besides, it's more the mushiness of it than anything."
"Ah." Harry leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms against his chest. "I see. Just remember the reason why you're on this earth."
"Yeah, yeah," Albus said.
He paused for a moment, thinking back to what Harry had been saying before.
"How did you get the courage to do it? Confess to Mum, I mean."
Harry's smile was a sappy one that almost made Albus roll his eyes.
"I didn't so much confess as show her how I felt."
"I don't think I could work up the courage to kiss Scorpius out of the blue. I'd have a heart attack before I managed it, and it sounds like an all around bad idea. I don't even know… I don't even know how he feels about boys, let alone me."
"Maybe you've identified your first move on your own. Tell him that you're bisexual. He's your best friend. He'll be happy you shared that with him, and if he does like boys, then you've given him a chance to tell you. You can always decide on your next move after you've had that conversation first."
"But if I tell him about being bi, I don't know if I could hold my feelings for him in. It's killing me, Dad. I've never had a secret from Scorpius before. Not ever. And I don't think he's had any from me. I feel like a liar for not telling him, especially when it has to do with him."
"You shouldn't," Harry reassured him. "If what you've told me is any indication, you will tell him eventually, but you can't do that until you're ready to. You're not doing anything wrong by having feelings for Scorpius, Albus, whether you tell him about it or not. It's not something you can help."
"But I can choose to tell him."
"You can, but not doing so isn't inherently bad. I watched your uncle Ron and aunt Hermione fall in love for seven years before they said anything to each other. Merlin knows how long we'd have waited for one of them to make a move if we hadn't been in a war."
"But I've heard Aunt Hermione angrily rant about Uncle Ron not confessing sooner."
"Yeah, well, she does sometimes, but it's not like she has room to talk. She didn't say anything either. Granted, we were in the middle of a war that I broke up with Ginny for, so I can't blame them. And Hermione isn't angry about it. Not really. It's just something she says when she's irritated with Ron about something else."
"I know," Albus said quietly.
He stood abruptly.
"I just wish there wasn't this extra barrier I have to go through."
"Me too," Harry said to Albus's surprise.
Albus offered his dad a small smile while he stretched after sitting in the chair for too long.
"I'll let you get back to work," he said, glancing at Harry's desk, which was scattered with abandoned slips of parchment full of important, if boring, information. "I'm sure you have loads to do."
"You'd think people would lay off breaking the law around Christmas," Harry grumbled. "Instead, they seem more gung-ho about it than usual."
Albus nodded, though he wasn't paying attention. Harry had been saying the same thing every Christmas since Albus was a kid.
"While you do that, I'm going to try and not be bored. Maybe I'll read a book for once. Or help Kreacher bake more Christmas cookies. He's on a kick with those."
Harry grimaced. The entire family was familiar with how packed the kitchen had recently been with various baked goods, not typically a specialty of Kreacher's. They'd barely had room on the table to eat dinner the night before.
"Good luck getting him to let you so much as wash the dishes," Harry said.
He was already back at his desk and trying to sort the parchment into manageable piles.
Albus left him to it, feeling a new bounce in his step as he wandered down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen. Even if Kreacher wouldn't let him help, he would let him eat as many sweets as he wanted, one of the few exceptions Kreacher made to obeying the orders set out by Ginny Potter.
