Chapter Nine

Chapter nine! This is the longest multi chapter fic I've done. I think it's also the longest fic, period. So I've hit a milestone in my fan writing! YAY! So, back to professionalism; the last chapter was rather hard to write, and I must thank You're All So Vacant and Bicky Monster for reviewing. Though I don't receive much feedback, you two keep me writing and beat the dreaded writers block that occurs, and I appreciate it very much, so a massive thank you to you. And also thank you to everyone else for reading and adding to alert etc.

Now this author's note has gotten unbearably long, I shall get on with the story. I hope you enjoy.

'Come on, Scorpius! For crying out loud! You've been sulking in this room ever since… well, you know since when! You need to get out! I miss you! Rosie misses you. Hell, even Slughorn misses you! Come on, Score, please? For me?' Albus said, pulling on Score's hand, trying to dislodge him from the sofa he was sprawled on.

'Albus, no. I'm not going out. I've only been out the Hospital Wing for a week! I'm still frail. I feel like shite. And this monitor is doing my fucking head in! I can't blink without it warning me not to strain myself. You expect me to go out with you? Al, I love you, but let me rest. Please? I need it,' the blond said, a little hysterically, looking at Al, expecting him to start shouting again.

He didn't though. He just stood, staring, mouth agape. It was a little unnerving. 'Albus? What did I-'

'You love me?' he muttered, eyes bright and wide.

Scorpius' mind raced – when did I let that slip? Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. Think, Scorpius. You need to think. Anything, just don't let him know that. If he knows, he can break you - and he tripped over his words. 'I, uh, I… No. Don't be s-silly! It was a slip of the tongue, you know what I mean. I love you as in, you know… I…' oh, how could he get out of this? 'I just meant it as thought to say 'you're lovely and all' or something. You know how it is… Um… I, I need to go and… I just need to go.' He bolted from the Common Room, realizing too late that that action contradicted everything he had said before he had let the truth slip. What was I thinking? I swore to myself I'd never say that. I can't be vulnerable! Love makes you weak, dependant. I can't be dependant! I am a Malfoy. I must depend only on myself. I must be strong and I must not fail. Love will only break me, and I cannot be weak. Is that not what Astoria has been teaching me all these years?

He stormed through the castle, mind a whirlwind of emotion, shaking so hard his back ached. He couldn't get Al's frighteningly ecstatic expression and hopeful eyes from his mind. You love me? His voice sounded so… well, so happy. Like it was what he had wanted, what he had needed, to hear. It was devastating.

Albus stood, shell shocked, staring that the entrance to the Common Room, heart in his throat. It's okay, he just didn't want… he didn't… Why did he run? Al couldn't fathom why Scorpius could say something so … so unlike Scorpius … and then flee. He never expected to be told he was loved, not by a Malfoy. Not by Scorpius. It was so unexpected. But then he had tried to cover it up so badly, and when that had failed, he ran. He always runs. He runs from his problems and he doesn't look back. He doesn't talk, he doesn't acknowledge anything is wrong, he just bottles it up, and then when he slips us, he runs even faster. Trust a Malfoy, Al thought, tasting bitter bile at the back of his throat.

Scorpius was walking the corridors, trying to think. What was he going to say to Albus now? It had taken all of his effort not to trip up; he never anticipated it ever happening. And now the truth was out there, in the big bad world, and there was no way of taking it back. No doubt Albus thought he was some kind of pathetic little girl, some sort of Hufflepuff. Merlin, this was bad. Not only is he a disgrace for falling and unable to control his emotions, he's turning into some kind of sappy Hufflepuff.

After a while of wandering aimlessly he found himself in the Astronomy Tower. It was a lovely day. It was Saturday, so there were students milling around all over the school grounds, and who could blame them? The sun was blazing, though there was a cool breeze, making the heat bearable. Scorpius observed all the happy faces and laughing groups of friends, envy boiling in his gut. Oh, how he wished he could enjoy this weather, enjoy having a … enjoy being in … enjoy being with his friends! He should enjoy those things, those things and more. He should be a regular teenager, enjoying life. But he isn't a regular teenager and he wasn't enjoying a thing.

The bright sun and lovely warm did nothing to alleviate his bad mood. He wished Albus was with him but he knew he had thrown that away. There was no way Albus would … reciprocate the feelings Scorpius certainly did not harbour.

It was too soon. It had only been a few weeks, if that, since they had … initiated their relationship, if that's what it even was. He doubted Albus would ever feel that way towards him; he was a mess. His family was falling apart before his very eyes and he couldn't cope. It was difficult opening his eyes in the morning and dragging himself out of bed. It took too much energy to fucking blink; especially recently, since his suicide scare.

He hadn't meant to swallow the pot of pills, he didn't want to choke on the medication. But he wasn't going to fool anyone; he had wanted to die. He's wanted to die ever since he realized no one cares; because nobody does. It's a hard fact of life, but it's true. No matter how much you care about anything, everything changes and then everything ends. Love and life and money and family, and all the care in the universe won't stop it.

So even if Scorpius did love Al, and even if he did feel the same, it doesn't matter! It is not final and shall never last! The only thing that is certain is the end. Death; The clouds; The Pit; The bed in Heaven or Hell's chains, or wandering on Earth as a ghost; Or simply lying in the ground as a box of bones! That is what is final.

And that is why Scorpius ran. He couldn't face it not lasting. He doesn't want to face certain pain. So he did what he does best and scampered.

The stupid monitor that 'watched' his every move started bleeping loudly when he went to sit on the window sill, shaking him from his internal monologue, causing him to nearly fall, making the monitor go crazy!

'All right, for fuck's sake! I'm not trying to top myself! I was just sitting down! Merlin's beard!'

But it was too late; Madame Pomfrey was storming up the stair case, face a mixture of pure horror and fright. When she saw Scorpius just standing there, eyebrows raised in annoyance, hands in pockets, her expression changed to one of confusion.

'Mister Malfoy?' she asked hesitantly.

'I was just trying to sit down. It made me jump, so I nearly fell. I wasn't trying to … kill myself. But this … thing scared the living shit – sorry – the living daylights out of me, and I nearly lost my footing. You really should invest in some benches around here.' He commented dryly. Pomfrey did not look impressed. 'Please! Don't tell Father!' he added, voice turning from blasé to pleading.

He could remember when Draco found out about his last tryst with the Grim Reaper…

Scorpius was sat in McGonagall's office with his father. The Headmistress had left them to do some sort of 'important documenting' which Scorpius assumed was an excuse to leave them alone. It was awkward, no, it was beyond awkward. It was in the Valley of the Fucking Insanely Awkward, and then some.

Draco's face was a picture of hurt and confusion and a smidge of anger. 'Scorpius, I don't understand. I … how … What …' he couldn't get his words out. It was expected, Scorpius allowed, but it still infuriated him. He was expecting Wizarding War Three or whatever number they were building up to now to be waged between father and son. He expected the mother of all headaches after he his father had lost his voice screaming, or his simply expected a curt slap 'round the face, and a disownment, before being left, no excuses or explanations at all. It's what his mother would have done, after all.

But not Draco, no; Draco was babbling and frowning and Scorpius just felt numb. He hated Madame Pomfrey for summoning Draco to the castle; Scorpius was fine! She had said so herself! Why did she need to get his father involved?

He had barely spoken to him in weeks; a few curt letters here and there to say he was doing fine, but nothing of import.

It was no different now.

'Score, I just don't understand. Why would you feel the need to … to … to harm yourself, much less try and end your own life? Madame Pomfrey told me about you not eating too.' Draco looked pensive for a moment before saying, 'What is going on inside that head of yours? Is it this divorce? Because I did try, Scorpius; I tried to talk to you about it, and you brushed me off and ran. You remind me so much like myself at your age. You know, I think the Potter-fixation runs in the family,' he said with a laugh, eyes distant, as if deep in memories.

'I'm not fixated on Albus,' Scorpius said without emotion, though his heart was pounding, and he dearly hoped his father could not hear it.

'No, I am sure,' Draco said, a small smile on his lips, 'but you get on better than I ever hoped to with Potter, uh, I mean, Harry.' A frown stole the smile, making Scorpius raise his eyes brows.

'Did you and Al's dad have a, uh… well, did you …'

'No, no, of course not. He hated me for good reason and I thought he was a stupid speccy, self-righteous, stuck up git, which he was. But I never got to say thank you for… well, that's a story for another time. We are talking about you and this … thing … that has stolen my joking, laughing, silly, reckless son away and replaced him with that shell of a man.' It hurt to hear his father describe him that way, but he supposed it was true enough. He was nothing like he used to be.

He used to be fun and laugh all the time, pull pranks and try to hit on Al, laughing when Al pulled a face. He used to use Rosie's uncle's Ton-Tongue Toffees and Canary Creams to brighten his day. He used to tell jokes and laugh at himself when no one did; he used to be alive. Now he really was just a shell, empty inside.

'I don't want to talk about it.'

'Scorpius, we have to. Is it this divorce? Do you miss Astoria?'

'No!' the young Malfoy all but jumped from his chair. 'I don't miss her. She was evil and conniving and a downright bitch.'

'Scorpius, language,' said his father, though he nodded in absolute agreement, not sounding at all angered by his son's foul mouth.

'She is your mother though.'

'I don't care. I still don't want to see her, and I don't want to talk about this. There's nothing wrong with me.'

'Nothing wrong with you? Scorpius, you're cutting yourself into shreds, starving yourself and overdosing on extremely strong antidepressants. Of course there's something wrong with you!' Draco said, voice harsher than he meant for it to be.

'Okay, so I'm a freak, is that it? I'm not entitled to a bad day? That's rich!'

'You are not a freak. You're going through a hard time, we all are; I don't expect you to be joyful about it, but I need you to talk to me! I don't want to find out you've jumped off of the Astronomy Tower or slashed your throat of hexed yourself to death. I've lost your mother, I've lost my parents, I've lost everything else. I do not want to lose you too! You are my son, and I love you, but I do not want you to do this anymore. I'm glad Pomfrey is referring you to a Mind Healer. Maybe it will do you some good. If you refuse to talk to me, I must insist you talk to them; they will help you, Scorpius. And I've sure Albus and Rosie, is it? I'm sure they will help you, as well as your other friends. You have many people wishing to help you through this, Scorpius. You are not alone.'

After that there was a few awkward 'thank you's and even more awkward, emotional words shared between father and son. It made Scorpius feel weird inside.

His father was not the caring sort. Of course, Scorpius knew his father loved him, but it was on a rare occasion his affections were physical, but there were many times Draco reached for his son to comfort him, and the hug goodbye was rather strange. Scorpius was not used to being held. His mother had forbid it, saying a Malfoy should not show such weakness.

It was just weird, and he didn't want it to happen again. A slap he could have taken, an argument was fine, but acceptance and help? He was not expecting that.

He looked at the Mediwitch, eyes pleading.

'I won't tell him. I believe you. And I shall inform the Headmistress that more seats need to be arranged. But please, Mister Malfoy, let someone help you. Mister Potter is more than willing; that boy loves you, you know. I saw it when your friend's mother – Hermione Granger – looked at that young Mister Weasley. He looks at you that way. You are not alone,' she said it was the utmost sincerity, and Scorpius' gut churned again. Why is everyone so nice? And why is she saying Al loved him? It couldn't be true… not that it matters of course. Stop it, Scorpius, kill those butterflies and stop smiling.

You are not alone…

Everyone keeps saying that, so why do I feel like I'm the only one left alive? he thought absently.

However, it was from this day forward that Scorpius Malfoy swore he would try and get some help, whether it worked, or not. He didn't feel all that motivated, but what Madame Pomfrey had said… well. He felt a flicker of hope which, despite his efforts, he could not quell.

A/N – So maybe there is some hope after all? So this is another of those just-written don't-know-what-the-heck-I'm-doing chapters, so if it's appalling, well, I'm sorry. But I hope you've njoyed it anyway. (: Please review!

Until the next time…

ChaseAwayMyFears