As a child, Albus had always struggled to identify with his family, and by the time he was ten, he realized it was a cruel trick of fate that the family member he could have most looked up to was the one who was present the least. Albus could remember each time Uncle Charlie came to visit before he went to Hogwarts because he'd committed each event to memory as best he could. He'd listen intently from parents' side while Charlie told stories of his travels and the dragons he'd worked with. Charlie's presence was a rare event and was exciting enough that Albus would forego his normal habit of slipping off at the first opportunity to read or sulk.

So, when spring came and Albus started working solely with some baby Welch Greens at Magorian's request, it was no surprise that he ran through Charlie's stories in his head while he tended to their needs and listened to their tiny, pleasant sounds as he fed them.

Albus held one of the small dragons and ran his finger along the small, developing ridge on its back. It let out a small, sing-song cry of comfort and closed its small brown eyes.

"Someday you'll be bigger than this room," Albus said softly. "And we'll take you to the preserve up in the mountains where you'll be safe."

Albus smiled and gently set the dragon back in the habitat and watched as it fought one of its siblings for the best napping place in the terrarium before summoning the care log from across the table and jotting down the dragons' feeding schedule.

"Magorian Smith!" a familiar voice called from across the room. Nearby, Magorian jolted and stood, setting down one of the unidentified eggs they'd been brought earlier in the week.

"I know you didn't find a nest of Hebridean Blacks and neglect to tell me!"

Albus leaned over to look around Gwendolyn Timms – a rather prickly older woman whose habit of wearing large witch's hats seemed to be compensation for her lack of magical talent – and saw Charlie Weasley striding into the room.

"Uncle Charlie!"

Charlie's face brightened when he saw his nephew. He looked different than he had a few months ago when Albus had last seen him at Christmas. His hair was shorter, exposing the graying patches along his temples, and he was wearing what Albus now knew to be field gear. His vest and pants had many pockets, and Albus wondered what he carried to care for dragons on a daily basis.

Albus tapped the edge of the terrarium with his wand to create an invisible barrier before sliding from his seat and started limping over to Charlie, who was warmly embraced by Magorian.

"I'm still not sure how you've kept all your fingers and toes," Magorian said to Charlie, releasing him.

"You and me both," said Charlie as Albus reached him. Before Albus could greet him, Charlie had his arms around his nephew's shoulders, hugging him tight.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Albus said in mock protest.

"I didn't know I was until a few days ago," Charlie said, releasing Albus and ruffling his hair. Albus groaned and tried to smooth it back down to no avail.

"I heard a rumor that you found some young Hebridean Blacks," Charlie said.

Magorian shook his head sadly. "They were Welch Greens, I'm afraid," he said.

"Ah," said Charlie, clearly disappointed. Albus wasn't sure why they seemed unhappy – Albus thought the hatchlings were absolutely adorable. He looked over his shoulder and saw movement in the terrarium. Two of the less-lethargic ones seemed to be wrestling.

"I rather like them," Albus said quietly.

"Welch Greens are the easiest to work with," Charlie said. "But the baby teeth of a Hebridean Black have excellent potions applications."

Albus jumped and nearly lost his balance as the Kneazle he'd worked with wound its way around his legs in its lazy journey across the room.

"Albus here is excellent," Magorian said, slapping Albus on the shoulder. "I knew if he was anything like you, he'd have a way with the creatures, but he's really gone above and beyond."

"So I've heard," Charlie said with a smirk. "His boyfriend was complaining about an incident with a Niffler at Christmas."

"That's how I wound up with a dog," Albus explained to an amused Magorian. "I've always wanted one and he figured it would stop me from bringing home 'work friends'."

"How is Salazar?" Charlie asked.

"Zar? Oh, he's a terror," Albus said, grinning at the thought. "I thought he'd grow into this regal kind of animal when I named him, but he's a complete lunatic. Rose came over last week for dinner and he wouldn't stop licking her ankles. He's way too energetic."

"You love it."

"Scorp hates it. He won't stay off the bed."

"You want to take a look at these dragons, yeah?" Magorian asked Charlie, who looked excited at the suggestion.

They wandered over to the table where the Welch Green hatchlings and other dragon eggs were kept, and Charlie immediately began examining the eggs. Albus, to preserve his energy for the rest of the day, climbed back into his seat as quickly as possible, eager to listen to Charlie's assessment.

After a few minutes, Charlie and Magorian started working through the logs and checking out the dragons. Albus flushed with pride when Charlie praised the records and terrarium.

"That was all Albus here," Magorian said. Charlie looked at Albus with surprise. "I was out sick last week when these came in. I hear Albus took care of the incubators and set everything up."

"I see my ranting over the years hasn't gone to waste," Charlie beamed.

"Just because I didn't do what everyone told me to do doesn't mean I wasn't listening," Albus said.

"Albus was a very difficult child," Charlie said to Magorian, and Albus knew he should be insulted, or at least somewhat irritated, but he was entirely too happy to see Charlie to care.

Magorian and Charlie chatted about the dragons while Albus coddled the smallest of the hatchlings, listening intently. Charlie told Magorian about his return to Romania and his visit with the dragons he'd worked with years ago.

"It's insane how some breeds can remember faces for so long," Magorian said, shaking his head. "I can't even remember what I had for breakfast."

"Speaking of meals," Charlie said, looking down at Albus. He had the small hatchling cradled in the crook of his arm and was letting it playfully nip at his fingers. "Al, lunch?"

"Sure!" Albus said, a little too excitedly. He couldn't remember the last time he had the opportunity to talk to Charlie one-on-one without his siblings and cousins interrupting – he wasn't the only one who found Charlie novel.

Albus settled the dragon back in the terrarium. It tried desperately to follow his hand until Albus tapped the edge of the enclosure with his wand, sealing it again.

"I'll be back soon," Albus promised the dragon, knowing it wouldn't understand. It cried out mournfully, and for the briefest moment Albus considered tucking it in the pocket of his robes. Instead, he regretfully and slowly followed Charlie towards the exit.

"Magorian seems to like you," Charlie said.

"He said he picked me because of you," Albus admitted. "It's the first time someone's paid attention to me because of my family and it wasn't because of dad."

"That must be frustrating," Charlie said.

Albus hummed in agreement as they entered the cavernous corridor. Muffled roars and cries from creatures and human voices echoed down the hall, and Albus tried, as usual, to identify each of the animals' calls as he walked.

Kappa. Pixie. Thestral. Fwooper.

Hippogriff! I didn't know we had a Hippogriff down here –

"-Potter? Oh, he's not all he's cracked up to be."

Charlie stopped in his tracks and tilted his head toward the stray voice, and Albus stopped beside him.

"Surely they didn't select him on his name alone," said another voice. Albus frowned and looked over his shoulder, his grip on his cane loosening.

"Not his name alone, I'm sure," came the first voice. Albus saw shadows moving from an alcove by the window – one he often used to enjoy some quiet at lunch time. "But he is crippled, queer, and a Potter. I suppose that's enough."

Albus shrugged to himself and kept walking in the opposite direction, leaving Charlie several paces behind.

"Albus?" he hissed, catching up quickly. He caught Albus' wrist and he could feel the broken callouses on his uncle's hand.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to say something? Do you know who that was?"

"Yeah, it was Gwendolyn," Albus said. "What of it?"

"You can't let people go around talking about you like that," Charlie hissed at him. Albus raised his brows in amusement.

"That? Oh, that's nothing," Albus said. "Frankly I'm more concerned with whether or not you've been taking care of your hands properly – that looks painful. I'm pretty good with potions. We should run by the apothecary downstairs. I'm sure I could –"

Albus was silenced by the appalled look on Charlie's weathered face. He stared at him, agape for a moment before Albus, baffled, kept walking. Charlie walked beside him, silent until they reached the atrium and headed toward the designated apparition point.

"That doesn't bother you at all?" Charlie asked finally.

"No, but clearly it bothers you," Albus said with a smile. "It's fine, Uncle Charlie. That's really nothing. You should have heard some of the things said about us back at Hogwarts."

"But it's not right, Al," Charlie protested.

Albus sighed and shook his head. "Your concern is touching. Really. And I appreciate it. But honestly, Uncle Charlie – I'm just happy you're here. Can we go get lunch instead of worrying about what some bitter old woman said?"

At last, Charlie's face broke into a wide smile, accenting the exaggerated lines around his mouth and eyes.

"No one ever gave you enough credit, boy," Charlie said. "You're tougher than dragon hide."

Albus didn't feel particularly tough when he had to rely on a cane and take a break halfway when he visited another wing of the building, but if Charlie thought he was resilient, then it was a start.


"Hand me that quill, would you?" Jin asked across the table, fully immersed in a stack of old records and scribbled accounts.

Scorpius, whose attention was on in his own stack of parchment, held his hand out, letting the quill glide into it before handing it to Jin, barely looking up.

With the entirety of the basement newly sorted and half-cataloged, Jin had asked Scorpius to help him compile notes and passages for the book on Asian wizards in England and their lost practices before 1700. Scorpius was all too happy to oblige ("I'm doing actual historian things!" he'd all but sang as Albus cooked dinner) and found that he had a real talent for writing interesting passages about otherwise boring events.

Scorpius wrote and wrote, consulting the yellowed parchment, his hands covered in ink and dust. It wasn't until the old clock chimed across the room that he looked up and realized it was well after 6 o'clock.

"Oh, no," Scorpius muttered.

"What?" asked Jin blankly.

"I'm going to be late for dinner," Scorpius said. "It's my father's rehearsal dinner."

Scorpius grabbed a bottle of cleaning potion Albus had brewed for them off the corner of his desk and quickly cleaned the ink from his hands and wrists. Though he was excited to see his father and Albus' family, he was a bit reluctant to leave a half-finished passage on his desk.

"Shouldn't you have taken the day off, then?"

"Oh, they're keeping this small," Scorpius said. "Dania says she doesn't need a big wedding and… well, father said his wedding to my mother was spectacle enough."

Jin smiled tiredly, looking up from his work for the first time.

"Well, I hope you have fun," he said. "And thank you for your help."

"Thank you for letting me help," Scorpius said. "This is great."

"I'm glad you think so," Jin said, "since I've already handed in the paperwork to name you co-author."

Scorpius went still in the process of pulling on his robes, leaving his collar askew.

"Pardon?"

Jin folded his hands atop his parchment and looked over at Scorpius, who had gone increasingly pale.

"I did it this morning," Jin said, nonchalant. "You've written at least a third of this and frankly I'm rubbish at organizing things. I never would have been able to pull all of this together."

"That's very kind of you, but –"

"Take credit where you deserve it, Scorpius," Jin commanded. "You're very good at this, and frankly you deserve a break."

Scorpius opened his mouth to protest again – this was Jin's project to prove himself and take his place at Mahoutokoro, and Scorpius had only been assigned to help him find things because it was convenient. He'd only started helping with the writing because it was fun and he wanted to learn Jin's research methods.

He must have stayed silent for too long, because Jin, who was normally very stoic and calm, smirked at him.

"Well?"

"Thank you," Scorpius said. "I-I don't know what else to say."

"Say that you'll have a good weekend and enjoy your father's wedding," Jin said. He pointed at Scorpius' scattered desk with the edge of his quill. "And that you'll finish that chapter on Monday."

"Y-yes. Of course!" Scorpius promised. "First thing."

"You better hurry, then," Jin said, grinning and nodding to the door. Scorpius looked at his watch and bolted towards it, already late.

"Have a good weekend!" he called over his shoulder. "And thank you!"


The second wedding of Draco Malfoy was a surprising in many ways.

The first was that it was a small, intimate affair. Upon announcing their engagement, the Daily Prophet had expected the wedding to be the social event of the spring, but Draco had turned down their offers for coverage and had instead accepted Hermione's offer for additional security to ensure no reporters from the school of Rita Skeeter would infiltrate the Malfoy Manor's grounds.

The second was that he had a Best Man - something he'd opted out of during his first wedding because he couldn't reconcile including any of his Hogwarts cohort in anything involving Astoria.

The third, and possibly most surprising, was that Harry Potter and a contingent of Weasleys were present, standing around him and his new wife as witnesses.

The wedding was held at the Malfoy Manor on a Saturday evening. Early on, Ainsley and Albus placed the torches placed around the garden with a potion to attract fireflies, and by the time the ceremony began, the air around them was alive with small, flickering, living lights.

Albus watched from the side as Scorpius handed Draco the rings – smiling all the while. He was happy to see his father happy, and Albus looked at his parents, leaning into one another next to him. Harry and Ginny seemed content to have an easy night together.

Could he have been happy if either of his parents were to remarry after the other had passed? There were so many bad raids in Harry's history and Ginny was known to be reckless. There were many times he could have lost a parent, and Albus wasn't sure he would have had Scorpius' strength to be content with one of them moving on.

But that, Albus thought as he watched Scorpius wink at Ainsley, was what made him special. Scorpius Malfoy was resilient and he could accept things for what they were. It had taken Albus years (and quite a beating) to develop an ounce of that skill and Scorpius had it in spades.

When Hermione – who had agreed to perform the ceremony with just a hint of smugness – pronounced Draco and Dania husband and wife, Scorpius clapped enthusiastically. Albus watched the lightness in his face grow as Harry and Ginny mused that of all the things they ever thought they'd do, attending a Malfoy wedding hadn't been on the list.

"It won't be the last one you go to," Albus interrupted, surprising even himself.

He didn't need to look away from his boyfriend, who was now hugging Draco and Dania as the small congregation of friends and colleagues broke into organized chaos, to know his parents were staring at him. Albus watched Scorpius, his intent expression breaking into a smile only when Scorpius waved him over.

"Is that so?" Harry asked after a beat.

"Absolutely."


The summer rain felt cold. Ainsley wrapped her jacket tight around herself as she walked from the Leaky Cauldron, ripping off her Ministry of Magic visitors' badge and tossing it in a bin as she passed. As her boots splashed in puddles, she realized it must have been raining for hours and hours – and that it was nearly dark – she just hadn't been in London to know.

Above the bookstore, she told herself. Number fifteen.

She repeated the thought over and over to herself, whispering under her breath and using the words as a distraction from what she'd just done.

As she climbed the alley stairs towards the second level of the alley, she felt over the bracelet on her wrist, feeling for the new charm – a graduation cap that hung next to the Hufflepuff badger. It was a gift from Draco, given just before her graduation two days ago.

I'm so proud of you, Ainsley, he'd said. And I'm honored that we get to be here with you.

Scorpius had agreed, and she'd appreciated them truly and deeply, but it hadn't been quite right. Nothing had been quite right, and she'd foolishly thought she could remedy the situation.

Ainsley knocked on the door of number fifteen – one of the flats directly above Flourish and Blotts – and hoped she wouldn't be left waiting outside for too long. She was well and truly soaked and had begun to shiver.

The door swung open to reveal James in joggers and an old Hollyhead Harpies training tank. Ainsley forgot the rain and cold immediately. She'd never seen James any less than half-composed, and she's certainly never seen him barefoot in what appeared to be his makeshift pajamas. For a moment, the only things she could see were the freckles dotting his upper arms.

"Ainsley?"

"Um… hi."

James reached out and grabbed her sleeve, pulling her across the threshold a bit too roughly, and she stumbled directly into the kitchen of his small flat.

"Merlin, Ainsley. You're soaked."

"Sorry," she murmured. It was quiet, and she could hear the water dripping down to the file beneath her feet.

"Take your shoes off," James instructed, and she kicked off her canvas trainers while he ran off, disappearing into a back room. When he returned, she was peeling off her jacket. James took it from her quickly and wrapped a large towel around her shoulders. He'd charmed it to be warm and she was immensely grateful when the heat hit the back of her neck.

"What were you doing out there?" he asked, taking the jacket and tapping the edges of it to siphon of some of the water.

"I was coming back from somewhere," Ainsley said. "I just thought I'd see if you were home."

She realized now that this may have been an overstep. She'd never been to James' flat and hadn't given him fair warning.

James looked down at her dubiously. "You said you were busy tonight and that we couldn't go out until tomorrow."

"Well, I was busy," Ainsley defended. "I just… am not anymore."

James quirked a brow at her but said nothing and Ainsley looked anywhere but at his eyes. He dropped the matter, and she knew he was confident she'd tell him when she was ready.

"Come on. Let's get you something dry to put on."

James ushered Ainsley in past the entry way into the living room. He'd told her it was small, but he hadn't mentioned how cozy it was with a big, squishy couch and a muggle television hanging over a small, currently-cold fireplace.

"Mum decorated it. Said she wanted it to feel like home," James said, answering her unasked question as he crossed into what she assumed was the bedroom. "This place used to be Uncle Bill's before he got married and he's been renting it out ever since. I'm only here half the time, so it suits me."

Ainsley looked around, careful not to drip on anything other than the floor. She felt hollow and wrong, like she was somehow intruding on an otherwise peaceful evening for James. A mug of tea sat forgotten but still steaming on the coffee table next to a dog-eared book.

James returned with a pair of training shorts and another Harpies jersey.

"These will be big on you, but at least they're dry," James said. He pointed her toward the bedroom and she nodded, disappearing quickly.

James' bedroom was, unlike the rest of what she'd seen, very messy. This clothes were on the floor, along with a duffle bag and suitcase half-unpacked from recent travel. Ainsley spotted the crimson of his worn and beaten Gryffindor Quidditch robes in the corner of the open closet and the tie he'd worn to her graduation hanging off a lamp. She resisted the urge to tidy up, and instead peeled off her clothes.

After drying off and changing, Ainsley emerged, putting her glasses on.

"Don't see you in those often," James said, leaning on the kitchen door. He had a fresh mug in his hand and was steeping the tea impatiently. Ainsley held down her satisfaction when he looked her over and blushed a bit before looking down into the mug.

"My contacts bother me sometimes."

"Your contacts bother you when you've been crying," James corrected, his voice low and somewhat stern. She knew he wasn't angry at her – he was angry at whatever had brought her to his doorstep, soaked and upset.

Ainsley walked over to him and was pleased to smell peppermint tea – her favorite.

"That looks nasty," James said, pointing to a bruise on her now-exposed forearm. Ainsley looked down at it and shrugged.

"It's from the Quidditch final," she said. "Got this bruise and we still lost."

"That was two weeks ago," he reminded her.

"It just takes a while to heal sometimes," Ainsley said. "Healing potions never agreed with my stomach."

James frowned and, in a fit of overly-dramatic chivalry, drew her arm up and kissed the purple patch lightly. He rubbed the back of her hand lightly with his thumb, waiting.

"I went to Azkaban," she explained quietly. "I went to see my mum for the first time."

James regarded her for a moment, surprised, before setting the mug on the kitchen counter.

"Come here," he said and held out his arm – an invitation, not a demand. Ainsley was all too happy to oblige and she buried her face in his chest quickly. It was still an unfamiliar feeling. Though they'd sent letters constantly, she had only seen him a few times in the last few months, her graduation included.

It had been a long week with graduation, coming back to the Malfoy Manor, and working up the nerve to finally pay her mother a visit. Ainsley felt physically weak - like she'd been playing Quidditch for three days without rest.

More than that, she felt relieved.

She felt James rest his head atop hers – he was so very tall – and she relaxed for the first time that day, breathing in the smell of his shirt.

"I'm glad you're here," James muttered against her hair.

"She was awful," Ainsley whispered, still unsure of whether she wanted to talk about it, but once she did, it all spilled out. "For a moment, she seemed sane. She asked about school and I told her I'd graduated. She asked where I was living and she seemed genuinely concerned, but then I said the word 'Malfoy' and she turned… unrepentant and hateful. She said awful things about Scorpius and your brother and father and even worse things about Draco."

James' hand moved in small, soothing circles between her shoulder blades, brushing at the edges of her hair. She turned her cheek against his chest.

"I always knew she was cold, but I don't know when she went crazy. She was alone so much while I was at school."

"It's not your fault," James said, pulling away just enough to kiss her forehead. He grabbed the tea and pressed the mug into her hand before ushering her gently toward the sofa. He grabbed his wand from a nearby table, aimed it at the fireplace and seconds later the small logs were burning. Satisfied, he sat down beside her and Ainsley immediately curled up into his side.

Ainsley was thankful that he didn't press her, and she sipped at her tea both to warm herself and to keep her hands busy for a moment. They sat in silence while she finished her tea, and once she set the mug aside, James seemed satisfied that she was alright.

"I asked to be taken out of the travel rotation for a bit," James told her. She sat up and looked at him, but held onto the hand that rested on her shoulder.

"Why? You love your job."

"I knew you would be around more," James said. He looked down at her, vulnerable and open. She slid closer to rest her legs across his lap. "I was hoping that if I was in town, maybe we could spend some more time together."

"Like an actual relationship," Ainsley added, her mouth curving into a smile. "Not just letters and Hogsmeade when you can make it."

"Exactly! We can go out for dinner, we can see more muggle films," James began, ticking off the possibilities on his fingers. "We can go places on the weekends. We can play games – I don't know if you're any good, but Albus said he wanted someone decent to play chess with and that's certainly not me – and I've been meaning to see my cousins more anyway. Rose has been kind of depressed lately – so maybe we could all get together? I think you'd like them if -"

Ainsley listened as he rambled, smiling and content. For months she'd been hearing his voice through his sloppy handwriting with no confidence that she was getting it right but satisfied with her imaginings none the less. Now, she was reminded that the real thing was infinitely better.

"Do you want to go flying next weekend? We can make a trip of it for your birthday. We could go out to the countryside or to the coast – whatever you want."

He was bright and eager and Ainsley knew exactly how he'd managed to date half the girls in his year. Once, that had bothered her. She'd thought James only liked her because she was in some way unreachable – a challenge to be met. But now he'd changed his job and wanted to go flying with her after she'd come to his door unannounced and soaked.

He had all the options the wizarding world could offer, and he'd chosen to stay close to home – to stay close to her.

"Whichever you prefer," she said, her mother's shrill voice fading quickly in light of James' smile. "I'm up for an adventure."

He grinned and Merlin, it was infectious. She couldn't think of anything else except kissing him, so she did, calm with the promise that this could be her new normal, and that was all she'd been looking for.


Scorpius had thought watching Albus bond with his dog had been the cutest thing he'd ever see, but he found out one weekend in the middle of summer that he was horribly, horribly wrong.

Albus waiting impatiently to hold Teddy and Victoire's new baby – that was the most adorable thing he would ever see.

Despite getting to The Burrow early for Sunday lunch with the intent to coddle the infant before the rest of the Potters and Weasleys could arrive, Albus had still had to wait his turn. Dominique and Louis were reluctant to relinquish their new niece – she was only a few days old - leaving Albus tapping his fingers impatiently on the couch next to them.

Scorpius watched from the doorway, sipping at a mug of cold pumpkin juice.

"You'd think that after all these years I'd get used to having babies in the family," Mrs. Weasley said. Scorpius jumped – he hadn't heard her approach – but smiled down at her. She was watching her grandchildren and great grandchild with enough fondness to fill the room.

"You don't get used to it? You have how many grandchildren?"

"Enough that I keep a list," Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Enough that when all of you come over I have to make sure all the plates and silverware are clean."

All of you, Scorpius noticed. She'd grouped him in with Albus and Victoire and James. He smiled down at his drink.

"It's different every time. I suppose there will be even more soon, with so many young adults in the family," she said. "They grow up so fast."

Scorpius hummed in agreement, though he'd never had the pleasure of watching younger siblings or cousins grow. He'd barely known Ainsley until she was already fifteen.

"What's bothering you, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Scorpius stayed silent for a moment before answering.

"Dad and Dania are talking about having one," Scorpius said quietly. He hadn't even discussed it with Albus, but something about Molly Weasley always had him divulging whatever was on his mind. He supposed it was a power that came with being a grandmother, since he'd seen her do it on multiple occasions with Albus and Lily. "He asked if I'd be okay with it."

"And are you?"

She looked up at him and Scorpius could scarcely remember a time when he was shorter than her. Maybe the first time they'd met? He couldn't remember.

"I'm over the moon about it," Scorpius admitted. "Me not being the last Malfoy? That's a dream come true."

"Why do you say you'd be the last?" Mrs. Weasley asked, folding her arms across her apron. "You and Albus could always adopt."

"I know," Scorpius said. "But my dad said something a while back about the Malfoy line ending and how it wouldn't be such a bad thing since my family's had such a long, not-good history and I just… I'd like him to see that he changed it for the better and could continue."

Mrs. Weasley stared at him like she was considering pinching his cheek as she often did. He expected an 'oh, you worry too much,' like he often got from Ginny.

"I think your father must see that with you," she said thoughtfully. "And it's great if they want to have children – isn't Dania a few years younger than him?"

Scorpius nodded.

"But any child raised by you and Albus would learn all the things your mother and father taught you, and they'd take that forward. You're not the end of the Malfoy line either way."

"I'm not sure I'd be a good brother," Scorpius admitted. "I'm pretty selfish. Only-child and all. I've always liked having dad to myself."

Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Scorpius, you'd be an excellent brother. You learned from the best."

She pointed at Albus who was finally taking the baby from Dominique's arms. He cooed down at her, grinning and reaching into the bundle of blankets to take her tiny hand. Lily stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder to look at her new cousin with the same adoring expression, her long red hair falling over Albus' shoulder.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed since he'd watched Albus comfort a thirteen-year-old Lily in the halls of Hogwarts, crying over some long-forgotten crush.

"He's a good brother," Scorpius agreed. "He's always watching and worrying about his family, even if they don't notice."

"We notice, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, reaching up.

Ah, Scorpius thought, smiling. There's the cheek-pinch.

He watched as Albus cradled the baby, arguing with Lily that he just got her and she could wait her turn like everyone else.

Across the room, Harry and Teddy entered the room. Scorpius couldn't be certain, but judging by tearful the look on Harry's face, Teddy had just told him the baby's name.

Harriet.


"Well, look at you," Albus said as Scorpius came in from work, grinning. He was draped across the sofa with a book on his lap – not a common sight, exactly. Lately, Albus was more likely to be found in the television room Harry had set up, watching episode after episode of muggle shows. Scorpius joined in occasionally, but was more than happy to sit beside him with a blanket and a book, using Albus' back as a foot warmer.

Scorpius looked at the book on Albus' lap and grinned even more. It was the first editing print of Jin's book with Scorpius' name in small print at the bottom of the cover.

"So you got my package."

"Clearly," Albus said, picking it back up. "I spent the latter half of the day reading your chapter on Anglo-Asian relations in the 1600s to my baby dragons – well, they're hardly babies. They're as long as my arm now."

"And what did the dragons think?" Scorpius asked, taking his robes off and hanging them beside the fireplace. It was the first cooler day of autumn, and he'd seized the opportunity to wear the scarf Draco had brought back from his and Dania's honeymoon in Portugal. He hung it beside his robes, smoothing out the fabric before turning back to Albus.

"The dragons think the wizards of Britain owe the wizards of China quite an apology," Albus said.

"I'd have to agree," Scorpius said. For a moment, he thought about sitting on the other end of the couch, but decided Albus looked far more comfortable. He took the loosely-bound manuscript and set it aside before falling as gently onto Albus as he could. Albus groaned, but wrapped his arms around Scorpius' waist anyway while Scorpius settled with his head on Albus' shoulder.

"Comfortable?"

"Very," Scorpius assured him. By virtue of being a couple inches taller than Albus, Scorpius found that he often had Albus' head on his shoulder. He never minded, but every once in a while it was nice to turn the tables. Albus was quiet for a moment, letting Scorpius settle in and slide his hand under his shoulders.

"Merlin's pants!" Albus cried, jolting a bit beneath him. Scorpius grinned up at him deviously. "Your hands are freezing!"

"Basement doesn't warm up that much," Scorpius said. "And I've always had cold hands."

"Do you think you'll be moving up soon?"

Scorpius nodded as the now somewhat-adolescent Zar padded into the room to investigate. He was gaining weight and size quickly – Scorpius would be surprised if he weighed less than 30 kilograms once he was done growing.

He parked himself beside the sofa and waited for Scorpius to greet him, his patience waning after a moment when the humans didn't pet him. He started pawing at Albus' hand until he began to stroke Zar's fur. Across the room, Freya surveyed the scene and decided she didn't much care and rolled over on the windowsill.

"I got a lot of recognition, actually," Scorpius said, proud of himself. "Jin leaves for Japan today – they've offered him the job he wanted at Mahoutokoro."

"That's good news," Albus said. Scorpius rolled his eyes. Despite his insistence that no jealousy was warranted, Albus hadn't been good at hiding his envy. Though Scorpius knew he would miss working with his friend – and they were friends, Jin assured him, and he had a standing invitation to visit – at least some good would come of his departure.

Then again, Scorpius thought, jealous Albus is very attentive.

"Yes," Scorpius agreed after a beat. Albus shifted his leg a bit, uncomfortable, and Scorpius was reminded why he was usually used as Albus' pillow.

"I'm very proud of you," Albus said quietly, carding his fingers through Scorpius' hair. "Really. I know it wasn't easy for you to get there. I'm sorry if I wasn't supportive enough."

"Are you kidding?" Scorpius said. "You've been great. And you've been working harder than ever."

"Well, at least I've stopped bringing my work home with me," Albus said. Scorpius felt him tense up underneath his hands – one of his many tells that something was up.

"That's been helpful," Scorpius agreed, waiting and rolling the back of Albus' collar between his fingertips.

Albus took a deep breath, and Scorpius braced himself.

"Magorian and Charlie submitted my name for a training program for magizoo rehabilitation specialists."

"Oh?"

"And I was accepted."

"That's great news!"

Scorpius drew himself back onto his knees, grinning down at Albus who wasn't smiling.

"I'm not trying to steal your thunder," Albus said, gesturing towards the book. "Actually, it's a bit the opposite. I'm not sure I'm going to take it."

"Why the hell not?" Scorpius asked, offended on his behalf.

"First of all, I'd be the youngest person there," Albus explained. "I'm only nineteen, but Magorian says I've got a talent with injured creatures."

"Albus Potter, savior of all the lost and broken things," Scorpius said with a smile. Albus rolled his eyes at the title.

"And it's really intensive. It's a six-month program and it starts at the beginning of January."

Scorpius was already outlining a dissertation on why Albus should take the offer in his head. "So?"

"It's six months at the preserve outside Castelobruxo."

Oh.

Albus stared up at him, his lips pressed into a hard line.

"I wanted to tell you because I know it will come up. Charlie knows about it and Magorian isn't making it a secret that he's advocating for my advancement," Albus said.

Scorpius looked down at his hands, twisting the edges of his sleeves and catching a glimpse of the scars around his wrists. He was sure he knew why Albus wasn't inclined to take the offer – Brazil was very far away.

"Why don't you want to go, Al?"

Albus swallowed hard and Scorpius sat back on his heels between his knees. Staring Albus down was the only way to ensure complete honesty when he was upset, and Scorpius locked eyes with him.

"I haven't woken up apart from you since you were kidnapped."

Scorpius cringed. They normally called if The Incident, if they called it anything at all. It had been months since they'd discussed it, which was just the way Scorpius liked it. Mention of it had Scorpius instinctively summoning the energy to warm his normally-cold hands and moving them to Albus' injured leg.

"The longest I've been away from you since we met was the summers at Hogwarts," Albus said. "Do you realize we've been living together for well over a year?"

Scorpius scowled at himself. He hadn't stopped to think about it.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't go."

"I don't want to leave you here alone," Albus said. "And I don't want to go by myself."

"I could… go with you?"

Albus shook his head slowly. "It's a closed camp on a massive preserve."

"We could stay outside in the town. Maybe you could apparate out at night?"

Again, Albus shook his head.

"The point is that we're there and available 24/7 when creatures come in or when there's a crisis. And it doesn't matter – you're finally making headway at the archive. You co-authored a very well-reviewed book for Merlin's sake."

"They're not official reviews," Scorpius countered. "They're preview-reviews."

"Not the point."

Scorpius wracked his brain for possibilities.

"Maybe I could –"

"Scorp, it's not going to work," Albus said. "I'm just not going to go, but not telling you felt like lying, especially when I knew you'd find out anyway."

"You have to go," Scorpius said firmly, using every ounce of selflessness he had. "You have to. This is what you've always wanted to do and you love your job. I just need to know that they're going to accommodate your injury."

"Magorian said they knew when they accepted me," Albus said. "Not that everyone doesn't know about Harry Potter's crippled son. It's probably why they accepted me, come to think of it."

Scorpius glared at him.

"Don't start that. You're good at what you do. Like you said, Magorian is already talking about you moving up."

"Scorp –"

"Albus, please," Scorpius said, taking both his hands and holding them so tightly he was in danger of hurting him. "Don't skip this because of me."

"You still toss and turn in your sleep sometimes," Albus said quietly. Scorpius had to stop himself from trying to smooth out the worry lines on his forehead with his thumb. "You still… say things."

"I know."

"I don't want to leave you," Albus admitted. "And that's not just me worrying about you. I don't… I don't know how to do anything without you."

"Come on," Scorpius implored. "You can't pass this up. Besides, won't it help you further down the line? Those programs are the closes we have to colleges."

Scorpius watched him, eyeing the crease that formed between his eyebrows as Albus gently rubbed the rough rings around his wrists. Albus had his selfish moments, but Scorpius knew he'd never make a decision like this on his own. For a moment, Scorpius basked in the knowledge that Albus didn't want to leave him – that he was so reluctant to spend even a day apart – and he let that wash over him.

"Six months isn't that long, love," Scorpius said, though the thought of spending so long apart had his chest tightening. "You know you should do this."

Albus shifted uncomfortably around him and drew Scorpius back down to lay beside him with his head on Albus' arm – not the best pillow, but functional none the less.

"But I'll miss you," Albus said. "And I'll worry."

"And I'll write to you every day," Scorpius said. "Maybe we'll get those muggle phones?"

"I can't picture you learning how to use a cell phone or a computer," Albus said. "Though it would probably make your work easier, if Hermione is to be believed."

"I'd learn if it would make it easier for you," Scorpius said, muffled by Albus' shoulder. Albus' arm came around him and Scorpius found himself crushed against his boyfriend.

"I think mum worries that we're co-dependent."

"We are co-dependent," Scorpius countered. "And I liked it that way – which is terribly selfish and sounds very possessive, now that I say it out loud, but you know what I mean - until right now when I realized it would keep you from doing what you love and doing something that's good for you."

Albus fell silent, his hand cradling the back of Scorpius' head as if he was afraid he'd run away otherwise. He lay there, silent, for several minutes before letting out a long sigh.

"So," Albus began. "We'll need to get phones."


Scorpius wrinkled his nose. Draco was pouring a healing potion onto his son's left hand with great distain, glaring between Scorpius and Albus. Clearly, this was not how he intended to spend the first Sunday afternoon tea of October.

"What on earth were you thinking?" he said. Behind him, Dania sipped her tea calmly, having done her job in creating the salve.

"Well, I didn't think the mobile would explode in my hand," Scorpius said.

"In his defense," Albus added, "we did get the best ones available to avoid any problems. And mine works just fine."

Albus drew out the black rectangle – identical to the one Scorpius had ruined – and Draco gasped.

"Put that away right now, Albus," Draco scolded. He looked back at Dania, who looked rightfully exasperated with her husband's reaction. "It might affect the baby."

Scorpius smiled and sighed. For the last three weeks since Draco and Dania found out she was expecting, Draco had been more protective and neurotic than Scorpius had seen him in years. He hadn't been like this since the last wave of Astoria's illness.

Draco had told him slowly and carefully over dinner, as if he'd expected Scorpius to be angry or upset, and had nearly had a panic attack when Scorpius buried his face in his hands, crying, until he realized the tears were from nothing less than happiness.

"Draco, dear," Dania said calmly. "It's not going to hurt anything. I've had one for years."

"I thought you stopped carrying it when you suspected out you were pregnant," Draco said. Dania sighed and reached into the pocket of her sweater and withdrew an older mobile phone.

"How else am I supposed to keep in touch with my muggle father, Draco?" Dania asked. Draco looked scandalized, but wrapped Scorpius' hand in a thin bandage with the utmost delicacy. "I can't exactly send owls to the clinic he works at asking how his day is going."

"But look at what it did to Scorpius' hand!" Draco said, pointing.

"Why did it explode?" Scorpius asked her. "They seem to be fine with you and Albus."

Dania shrugged, shaking her head. "My only guess is that the strange current that runs through you must have caused a problem. The newer ones don't seem to have the problems the older ones did, and a lot of wizards who have muggle family and friends carry them. The most I've ever had is static."

"That's what my dad said too," Albus said. Draco scowled.

"We're wizards," Draco said. "We don't need muggle technology."

"I just wanted to be able to talk to Albus while he's away," Scorpius said, feeing scolded.

"Have you told your parents you're leaving?" Draco asked Albus, taking a seat next to Dania.

"Yeah," Albus said, rolling his wand between his fingertips lazily. "They were happy for me."

Draco hummed in noncommittal recognition. Scorpius knew Draco wasn't pleased with Albus' leaving, despite being happy he was doing well with his job. He'd already urged Scorpius to move back into the manor temporarily, but Scorpius stood firm – he wasn't leaving his home, and he certainly wasn't going to intrude when he and Dania were expecting a baby.

"Are you happy?" Dania asked. Albus looked surprised at the question, and didn't answer immediately.

"I'm excited to learn more," Albus admitted sheepishly, as if he were guilty about his happiness. "And I'm glad to be recognized like this. And I'll get to work with some creatures I've never seen before.

"But no. I'm not happy about leaving."

Scorpius held Albus' hand, suddenly wishing they were alone instead of with his father.

"Six months goes by quickly," Draco said. He smiled at Dania, who unconsciously placed her hand across her stomach.

"Six months is nothing," Scorpius agreed, giving Albus an encouraging smile. "Nothing at all!"


Scorpius had stolen a baby.

Well, not exactly stolen, but he had removed her from the room when no one was looking. It was just that she was so cute and it was so loud, so he took her into the small den at The Burrow while everyone else talked where he could sit close to the fireplace with her. It was cold this Christmas Eve, and Scorpius was very stressed after a day of helping Albus pack for his excursion to Brazil.

Something about holding a baby, though, put it all in perspective.

"He's going to be fine in Brazil," Scorpius said, sitting cross-legged with Harriet in his arms. "He has to be. Your Uncle Albus – well, I guess he's not really your uncle, is he? That's probably what you'll call him, though – he's going away to learn more about saving animals. It's what he's always wanted to do, but I'm going to miss him very much. When he comes home, you're going to be even bigger than you are now. Maybe you'll even be talking!"

She was so much bigger than the last time he saw her, and he watched, fascinated, as she looked at him with her small blue eyes and let the small amount of hair on her head turn white-blonde. It had terrified him the first time he saw it, and later found out that Teddy and Victoire had kept Harriet's metamorphmagus talents a secret to enjoy watching their family panic.

"We're not getting any sleep with a baby," Teddy had said. "We have to have some fun."

"It's a good look on you," Scorpius said, gently patting the tuft of hair. He heard a group of people laugh from the other room and smiled. He could pick out Draco's laugh anywhere.

"I'm going to have a baby brother soon," Scorpius told Harriet. His voice broke at the mere thought. "Dania told me last night. Isn't that exciting?"

Harriet gurgled at him in response.

"I didn't know it was a boy."

Scorpius jumped at the voice behind him, jostling Harriet and earning a whine of disapproval from her.

"Merlin, Rose!" Scorpius cried, clutching Harriet close. "Don't do that!"

Rose was sitting in an armchair in the corner, nearly entirely in shadow. Scorpius nudged his glasses up and she came into better focus. There was a glass of firewhiskey in her hand, and he spotted the bottle nearby. She remained silent.

That's not good.

"Rose?"

"I just needed to get away from everyone for a bit," she explained, her voice slow and soft – not at all her usual clipped-and-concise speech. "But a baby brother – that's excellent, Scorpius. Really."

Scorpius swallowed down his excitement at not being the last person with his name. Clearly, this wasn't time for a happy rant.

"What's wrong?"

Rose bit her lip, looking down into her glass. Her big red curls were hidden under a Santa hat that looked entirely too happy for her expression.

"I was seeing someone," she said. "And I really liked him. Loved him, maybe. But things had been bad for a while and he broke up with me a few days ago."

"Why?" Scorpius asked.

Rose didn't answer for a moment, and Scorpius didn't press her. He rocked Harriet slowly in his arms while she grabbed at the collar of his shirt.

"Because he's a muggle. And not the kind that would take well to our world," Rose said.

Suddenly, bits and pieces of the last year made more sense – Lily had kept trying to get Rose to talk about her mystery boyfriend. Albus had said she'd seem depressed for a while and she'd seemed to be having a bit too much fun with Viktor Krum's son at Victoire and Teddy's wedding.

"I knew you were too interested in dancing with strangers at the wedding," Scorpius said. "It's not your style."

"I'm not sure what my style is anymore," Rose said. "I thought I did. I guess I liked the thrill of it. Sort of having a double life. And I did intend to tell him – truly. But I realized he'd never…"

Rose trailed off and took another long drink from her glass.

"I'm sorry," Scorpius said. "Relationships are hard."

"Well, not all of us have had the luxury of being married since we were eleven," Rose said, a bit bitter. Scorpius opened his mouth to protest, but realized he had no defense. It wasn't like he'd had a long line of relationships and heartbreak.

Scorpius noticed Albus standing in the doorway with his thumbs hooked on the pockets of his trousers. He leaned into the frame to take his weight from his bad leg, watching Rose. It gave Scorpius a moment to look at him – black slacks and a dark blue button-down had been an excellent choice.

I need to remind him how lucky we've been, Scorpius thought.

"We haven't been married since we were eleven," Albus corrected her. Rose looked up at him, and when she turned her head the light caught the dampness under her eyes. "We started dating at eleven. I think we got married at fifteen?"

Albus looked at Scorpius, amused.

"Sixteen," Scorpius corrected. "In the Room of Requirement."

Albus winked at him before turning his attention back to Rose, who seemed to have ignored their exchange. Scorpius quickly gave Albus a summary of his cousin's situation.

"You know what did it?" Rose asked. "And I haven't even told anyone because now it feels a bit tainted, but… I tried out for the Hollyhead Harpies and made it."

"That's fantastic!" Albus cried.

Rose just shook her head sadly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"And I didn't have time for him during tryouts and I had to keep lying."

"Well, you're a wonderful liar," Albus said. Rose glared at him. "I mean that as a compliment. Remember, I'm a Slytherin."

"Well, it just got to be too much and he decided I was too secretive. He'd never met my family, save for mum, dad, Hugo and my Granger grandparents. And it just fell apart."

With that, Rose started sobbing, leaning forward onto her knees and curling into herself. Scorpius and Albus instantly moved towards her, and Albus at on the arm of her chair, pulling her close.

"If he wasn't the kind pf person you could tell everything to, then he wasn't for you," Albus said, rubbing her back as she cried into his thigh. Scorpius shifted Harriet to one arm and knelt in front of Rose taking her drink before it tipped from her hand.

"He was just so sweet," Rose said. "And kind. He worked with disabled children, for Merlin's sake! I'd never have the patience for that!"

"Oh, Rosie," Albus said, empathetic. She sobbed into him, her shoulders shaking, and to Scorpius' surprise, she reached for him. He took her hand and let her grip it while she cried.

"It'll be okay," Scorpius said. "He just wasn't the right guy for you."

"I know," Rose said, drawing herself back up. Albus smoothed her hair down and pulled his wand from his pocket, conjuring a handkerchief and handing it to her. She took it gratefully and cleaned up her face, leaving a smear of mascara on the fabric.

"I know he wasn't right, and I'd known for a long time," Rose said, finally calming. "But that doesn't make me feel any better right now."

"I find holding a baby helps," Scorpius said. "Or a puppy. But Zar doesn't much like being cuddled right now."

Rose protested a bit as Scorpius shifted, but took Harriet from his arms.

"Is that why you took her?" Rose asked. "It makes you feel better?"

"Yes," Scorpius admitted. "I'm practicing for when my brother arrives."

Albus smiled down at him fondly and Scorpius reached out for his hand. They only had a week until he left, and Scorpius made it a point to maintain contact whenever possible.

Rose looked down at Harriet, whose hair color quickly shifted to bright red – and gave her a watery smile.

"I guess it does help," Rose said. She looked up between Albus and Scorpius. "Thank you."

After several minutes of cuddling Harriet and telling her about her family, they came back to the very busy living room full of people. Rose was quickly captured by Hermione, who saw her daughter's red eyes. Dominique and Hugo vacated a spot on the sofa near the Christmas tree, and Albus quickly claimed it, patting Lily's shoulder as he sat beside her.

"It's only six months," Scorpius said, recognizing Albus' faraway look as he sank into the space beside him. Albus sagged into his side, and Scorpius wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

Albus didn't say anything. All possible reassurances had already been spoken and there was little left to say, save for the goodbye looming a week away. Scorpius didn't want to admit it to Albus, but he was worried – worried about being without his boyfriend for so long, and a bit concerned that Albus would enjoy being away from him enough that it would change things. Maybe even ruin them.

Across the room, Draco and Dania were talking with Ainsley and James, who had just returned from another brief trip – this time to Scotland. They were laughing and Draco smiled over at his son – eldest son, Scorpius reminded himself – waving them over. Scorpius smiled and waved him off before setting about smoothing Albus' hair back down.

"Your brother's been around more," Scorpius said. "Dad says he's still not comfortable around him, and I'm still pretty sure he doesn't like me."

"He's going to have to get over it," Albus said despondently. "Why on earth did you make me start packing so early?"

"You're using muggle transportation," Scorpius said. "I might need to charm your suitcase to make it big enough."

"Can I put you in it?"

"Sadly, no," Scorpius sighed. "But it's okay. You can write to me. Our letters will only be delayed by a day or so."

Albus hummed in disapproval.

"It'll be worth it in the end," Scorpius reminded him.

"You know," Albus began, "I am almost done packing for the trip a whole week in advance."

"So?"

"I'm going to have plenty of free time."

Albus looked up at him, mischievous and needy all at once with a smirk Scorpius knew was meant to be suggestive.

"You're incorrigible."

"You've never complained before."

Beside them, Lily rolled her eyes.

"You two are gross," she said. "Cute, but gross."


"Do you have your toothbrush?"

"Yes."

"Your copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?"

"Yes."

"The annotated one, not –"

"Yes."

"Do you have your wand?"

"Oh, for Dumbledore's sake, Scorpius," Albus said, dropping his duffle bag on the floor next to his suitcase and straightening his jumper and tucking his old scorpion amulet into it. The jumper was an old one from his Quidditch uniform, and Scorpius would have sworn Albus was testing his resolve on purpose. He had a well-established weakness for Albus in his Quidditch gear that dated back to their fifth year. "I have everything. You checked. Five times."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go to the airport with you?" Scorpius asked, wringing his hands. Albus drew his wand from the pocket of his coat and shrunk down his cane to fit in his duffle bag. It was early morning on the second day of the new year, and portkey that would take Albus and his luggage to the airport waited at the edge of their garden. Scorpius was trying not to look at the old, cracked terra cotta pot through the open door.

"And how would you get back?" Albus asked, both amused and exasperated.

"I could get to a Floo connection. I'm very good with taxis, remember?" Scorpius asked.

Albus smiled warmly at him, but the warmth didn't reach his eyes.

"If you go to the airport with me, I might not leave."

Scorpius folded his arms across his middle, looking down and wondering if that would be such a bad thing. Albus had told his mother the same thing when she'd offered. Scorpius had envied her then – when Albus stepped into the fireplace and left, she still had both Lily and Harry.

He, on the other hand, would be quite alone other than Zar, who was quietly pawing at Albus' things on the floor. At a little over a year old, Zar was both endlessly curious and large enough to do damage. Albus whistled for him to stop, and Zar whimpered, scolded, and lay down next to his bag.

Albus looked at Scorpius for a long moment before stepping forward and hugging him. Scorpius' arms fell limply to his sides. He knew that as soon as he hugged Albus back, the act of saying goodbye would begin, and he just wasn't ready.

"I've known for months that this was coming," Albus said, "but that doesn't mean I'm ready."

Scorpius groaned and bowed his head into Albus' shoulder, clinging to him in the least desperate manner he could manage.

"Be careful," Scorpius said, muffled. "Please."

"It's a training program," Albus muttered. "I doubt I'll be able to get into much trouble."

"Still, I'd appreciate it if you'd come back with all your limbs."

"I don't know," Albus said darkly. "Pretty sure the left leg can go."

Scorpius pulled back just enough to scowl at him, his hands still locked behind Albus' back.

"Send a letter as soon as you get there. Just so I know you made it."

"I will," Albus promised. "Don't worry. Muggle transportation isn't nearly as bad as your dad says."

Scorpius shook his head a bit, forcing a smile.

"I'm glad you're doing this, even if I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too," Albus rasped. "Thank you for understanding."

Scorpius stayed still, looking down into Albus' eyes. Despite having a full night's sleep, there were still small threads of red coming from his irises.

"I'll see you soon," Albus said, forcing a smile before tilting his head up and kissing Scorpius cautiously. Scorpius contained himself, forcing his hands to stay still instead of clinging to his boyfriend and begging him to stay. He felt restrained and this wasn't the goodbye that Albus deserved, but he also didn't deserve the guilt of seeing Scorpius look as devastated as he felt.

Albus pulled away too soon and it felt like the worst part of climbing from bed on a cold day. He stepped back slowly from Scorpius' arms and threw his bag over his shoulder, careful of his balance – and grabbed the handle of his suitcase before heading toward the door.

Albus didn't look back until he'd reached the bottom of the steps, his shoulders slumped and his hair now ruffled by the wind. Scorpius smiled for him, reaching down to restrain Zar by the collar when as he tried to follow his human.

"I love you," Scorpius said. It was a simple enough reminder, but he often felt he didn't say it enough.

The worry lines on Albus' face softened. He reached up and straightened Scorpius' glasses carefully.

"I love you too," Albus confirmed, pulling Scorpius down by the collar of his jumper for one last brief kiss. "I'll see you in June."

Scorpius could only nod and watch as Albus took the few steps to the portkey. He looked back one last time, his lips curved into a sad smile, as he reached out and grabbed the rim of the pot and disappeared into thin air.

Scorpius sat down on the cold stone step next to Zar, who was quick to lay himself across his lap and lick at his face. He tolerated it for a moment until Zar calmed and sat beside him, looking at the place Albus had vanished. After several minutes, the cold breeze started to bite through Scorpius' jumper, and he wrapped an arm around Zar's back.

"He's my favorite human too," Scorpius said quietly.


That night, the house was quiet. It was always quiet – it wasn't like Albus was loud or constantly played music – but without the breathing of another person beside him, Scorpius felt very alone. He left the everlasting candle beside the bed burning, but still the darkness and silence felt oppressive and daunting.

He sighed and whistled. Zar, who had spent twenty minutes lobbying to get on the bed with a mixture of whining and wide-eyed looks with a lolling tongue before giving up, leapt onto the bed.

"That was fast," Scorpius said. Zar lay in the space Albus normally occupied, stretched along Scorpius' side. "Were you waiting?"

Zar only whined at him, sniffing intently at Albus' pillow before giving a mighty huff and laying his head on his paws. Scorpius wrapped an arm around him and scratched behind his ears lazily.

"I know," he assured the dog. "I miss him too."