Saturday November 23rd 2019:

Albus never knew Astoria Malfoy—that is to say, he had met her once at King's Cross station, but they had never properly interacted. It soon dawned upon him however that it was irrelevant to know her well, because the pain clearly shown on Scorpius' face was all he needed to know. From the clear effect of her passing from not only her son, but the people around them in this very room, Albus knew that she was a wonderful and loved person.

The room was just as dark as the atmosphere, the only light eliminating from the hanging candles flickering on the guest's grieving faces. The speaker standing at the podium directly in front of the enclosed casket spoke assuring and emotional words to the mourning guests, but all Albus could do was focus on Scorpius. His eyes were red, and tears were dripping down his cheeks. Draco firmly held his son's shoulder while remaining as strong and calm as he could.

This had been the first time Albus and Scorpius had ever got to be in each other's company outside of school or the Hogwarts Express, and while a funeral was not the ideal first time, he was glad to be there for Scorpius.

Draco Malfoy had set up the funeral for this specific month, during a time when Scorpius was not too busy with school. Normally he was hesitant about the idea of Albus visiting Scorpius, but the last thing he wanted was his son to feel more hopeless than he would already feel for this certain event.

Scorpius was prepared for his mother's passing some day, but it didn't make it any less painful. When Astoria would hold him, he would feel safe and secure in her arms, but as time went on, the steadiness of her loving embrace weakened, and he was nearly afraid to hold her, fearing he would cause her pain just by touching her.

The last few months prior to her death, Astoria would be weak to the point of not being able to hold Scorpius -- just as he feared -- and she would groan in pain from just the simplest of movements. She was not weak enough to not tell Scorpius how much she loved him, and how proud she was. That was the biggest indicator to Scorpius that she was reaching the end, making sure that every single sentence she uttered to her son was reassuring him of her love. He was relieved that the casket was closed, because he wouldn't be able to bear looking at her gaunt, lifeless face, knowing that she would never open her eyes ever again.

After the prolonged speech, the guests gathered in a separate room in the funeral home for the reception.

As Draco was speaking to the Greengrass family, Albus and Scorpius were sitting by each other's sides on one of the sofas.

"Aren't you going to have a snack or something?" Albus proposed.

"Not hungry," Scorpius mumbled, staring off into nothingness.

Conversations like that continued from that point on until sundown. Draco returned the boys back to Hogwarts that night, and it was until then when Scorpius spoke to Albus without Albus needing to initiate.

"Sorry you had to sit through all of that, Albus. I would understand if you got bored."

Albus and Scorpius walked down the entrance hall, turning when they reached the narrow staircase leading down to the dungeons.

"Well, a bit," Albus said honestly, "but I didn't mind. You obviously needed someone else to be there for you."

"I did."

The next silence lasted until they entered their dormitory and changed into their pyjamas. Their roommates were already asleep, the hangings of their four-posters pulled completely shut, with one of the roommates snoring.

"Hey, Scorpius," Albus said eventually. "Just pretend that I am not Albus Potter, but rather Albus Dumbledore," Albus said, standing himself up straight and pretending to stroke an imaginary fake beard. "Scorpius Malfoy, hear my wisdom. Do not pity the dead. Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love."

Scorpius stared thoughtfully at the Dumbledore impersonator, but also smiled broadly from it at the same time. He slipped himself into bed and laid his head down on his silken pillow.

"Never heard that one before," Scorpius said, quietly. "Did you just make that up?"

Unlike Scorpius, Albus smoothed out his sheet and pillows so they were in a comfortable enough condition to rest on before properly laying down.

"No," Albus said, breaking out of character. "My dad told us that when he had a near-death experience, he saw Dumbledore himself, and apparently he said those words to him. Or he could be nutters, I don't know..."

"No way!" Scorpius said, amazed. "Well, I am happy to say, Albus... Potter?"

"At this very moment, yes," Albus said, smirking.

"Well, I am happy to say, Albus Potter, that I am keeping a level head. I'm not going to let this tragedy drag me down with it."

"That fast?" Albus said, arching a brow.

"Well, it's not like I'm over it or anything, I just don't want to be kept in a dark place for weeks or even months," Scorpius affirmed.

"We're already in the dark place, Scorp."

Recognizing Scorpius' demeanour change shortly afterwards, Albus quickly added, "I mean, I think that's a great idea, but I must admit that I still don't understand how positive you can get sometimes. In fact, I'm a little envious."

Scorpius shrugged his shoulders and said, "Eh, I guess it's just my way of being me."

Albus grasped at the hangings of his bed.

"Night, Scorpius."

The hangings shut.

"Night," Scorpius said, blowing out the candle on the bedside cabinet in between their beds, and repeating Albus' actions.

Albus fell asleep almost instantly, Scorpius could tell by his heavy breaths. Scorpius didn't have as much luck. He tossed and turned nearly the entire night, his mind swarming with unwelcome thoughts. What does death feel like? Does it feel like you're in a long never-ending sleep? Is that what his mother was doing right now? Was she practically sleeping?

The dungeons were already cold and dark, but never before has that been more apparent as that current moment for Scorpius. If it weren't for the snores and heavy breathing, he was certain he would have doubled up in a state of panic from just how dark it was. Even the occasional reflections from the rippling lake outside would not make it any less dim.

He shivered, bundling under as much blanket as he could, his eyes wide awake despite the fatigue he was feeling.

This was going to be even more difficult than he had imagined.