Draco Malfoy wanted blood. He'd been on set when his son had apparently been orbed onto his kitchen table, in front of his husband who was eating a piece of toast – only to have several large shards of glass pulled out of him and had several large gashes healed by Wyatt.
For Marcus's part, he'd took it all in his stride and smothered the boy with as much attention and care as was humanly possible – including saving the shards of glass in a ziplock bag, which… made Draco both uncomfortable and grateful for his husband. Marcus had no idea how to contact the wizarding authorities, considering he was a muggle, but he did anticipate that Draco would be furious when he found out and prepared a vodka martini just in case.
"Drake, we will get through this but you need to stay calm."
"They stabbed our son, Marcus!"
"Ohh, don't be dramatic, they…"
"Impaled him! Threw him into a cabinet, causing him to become impaled with glass. Better?" Marcus wrapped his arms around the smaller man "I knew we couldn't trust them". A small kiss was placed on his forehead,
"Draco, listen to me. We will fight this- but we will do it the right way. We get the lawyers involved, and we sue for everything they've got. We push for maximum penalties, we do a media circuit- we flood their lives with pain for what they did to our boy, but I need you to promise me that you will never speak to those people. Not this Ronald, not Harry, not even Hermione. We can't talk to them. Do you understand me?" Draco nodded,
"But, I …"
"Tell me you understand, pet. I need you to be strong, the only way we win is if we fight smart." Draco sighed,
"I understand." Draco pushed his head into his husband's chest, "I love you." Marcus ran his fingers through Draco's hair,
"I love you too. And I promise you, if they ever touch you I'll snap them in half like a twig". Draco let out a small laugh,
"What did I do to deserve you?" the taller man hummed,
"Let's go check on him. He's bound to be upset." The two men made their way to their son's bedroom, knocking before they entered. The room was dark, and Scorpius lay on his bed with an arm covering his eyes. "Hey Scorp, are you OK?"
"I feel like an idiot." Draco moved to sit by his son
"You're not an idiot. You just saw the best in some bad people, that's all. It happens to all of us" Marcus knelt down by the side of the bed,
"The most important thing now is that you understand what's about to happen, and more importantly that you understand why".
"I'm not going back to Hogwarts, am I." It wasn't phrased as a question.
"No, you're not."
"And I can't speak to them again can I." Another statement.
"Not under any circumstances. No Weasleys, no Potters and no Grangers no Weasley-granger-potters." Scorpius nodded.
"We mean it, Scorp." Added Marcus "No contact. No calls, no texts, no owls or fireplace calls or whatever else you guys use. None of it." Scorpius nodded and
"You know, I think that's for the best. I just can't believe that this happened. Everything was going well until…"
"Don't overthink this, Scorp. They're no longer your friends, or people you know they're the enemy." Marcus put a hand on Draco's shoulder, "Harry didn't actually touch you, and sadly I doubt there's a law against being a creep. But I give you my word – your father and will destroy this Ron fellow. I may not know how Wizard law works, but I assume there's got to be something about assaulting a minor in there… and if not, I'll just have him kneecapped by some friends of mine in Brixton." Scorpius snorted,
"Thanks dad."
"… Is Wyatt still in the guest room?" the young blonde nodded, "I'll go check on him." Marcus smiled before leaving the room. Draco just smiled down at his son.
"Scorpus – I know this will be hard. But please, take a word of advice from me." He knelt down next to his son, "Take your broken heart and turn it into art. Make yourself into the man you want to be and make them regret ever fucking with you. At the end of the day, the best revenge is showing them that they will never win." He smiled down at the younger man,
"Honestly, dad if it wasn't for Teddy I don't want to think about what could've happened. I felt so helpless pinned there by Harry – only to escape and then be thrown around like a rag-doll."
"By 40 something year old men, Scorp. You're not supposed to be able to fight them, you're still a child. Yes, you're smart and independent and grown up but there was nothing you could do." Draco stood and moved to the door, "Take some time and decide what you want to do next. I don't care what it is – acting, singing, dancing, polo, god-damn alligator wrestling, you just tell me what it is and we'll make it happen." Scorpius nodded,
"But what about school? I still need to take my NEWTS." Draco rolled his eyes.
"I've already hired you a tutor and arranged for the exams to be administered early. You can take them as soon as you're up to it. I mean it, Scorpius – your life begins now. And it's going to be gloriously free of Potters'"
Darkness. A deep, foreboding sense of isolation and nothingness. That was all Albus felt. The days after 'the incident' had been some of the worst of his life. Listening to his dad and grandmother argue over how they were going to 'spin the narrative' whilst Ron continued to insist he did nothing wrong was like a nightmare he could never wake up from.
Not for the first time, Albus realised he had nothing in common with his family. Scheming, plotting, 'remind them of all we've sacrificed', 'just a little slip up, let's say you had a flashback' 'people need to remember you're a war hero' – it made him sick.
He tried writing to Scorpius, tried fire calling, howlers, even divination – anything to reach his only really friend, but nothing worked. He was alone. Alone with a family who would rather spin a narrative to frame an innocent boy rather accept their own faults.
To make matters worse, even Teddy wouldn't speak to him. He wrote Al a letter informing him that he was firmly off team Potter. The letter also alluded to the fact that his father was as much to blame as Ron, but refused to give any details. Teddy's letter hit Al like a ton of bricks.
He slowly began to piece things together; Scoprius' insistence on not being left alone with his dad, the look he'd received when he'd let Harry lead him into the kitchen, the sudden outburst… something must've happened. His father must have done something to set all of this in motion, but what?
Albus decided he would give his father one chance to come clean and asked him outright what he did to make Scorpius act like that. Why he left the kitchen in such a panic and why Teddy was making him leave. His father lied to him. Told him he was imaging things and that he was probably just feeling sick.
Albus knew it was a lie, he could just feel it. And so he withdrew, spent almost all of his time in his room reading about long distance contact spells he would attempt when back at Hogwarts, or brushing up on potions work because it made him feel closer to Scorpius.
He stopped calling Harry 'dad'. He was 'Harry' now - Albus refused to recognise this man as his father, a man who would lie to him, who would make him feel like this. Not that Harry even noticed, he did everything he could to avoid Al. Lilly and James tried to cheer him up at first, or at the very least to get him to come down for dinner, but he flat out refused. Even when he would be forced to sit at the table by his mother's incessant screaming, or at one point a levitation and binding charm, he simply sat and starred. If they simply left him alone, he would eat. If they tried to force him to be around them, he would starve.
He was never hungry when he was around them. He hated the dining room and hadn't stepped foot in the lounge since it happened. Albus found himself frequently leaving the house at night. One day, he simply woke up in the middle of the night and wanted air. He walked downstairs and out the back door. It wasn't until the sun was up that he realised he'd been walking for hours, and he wasn't even wearing shoes. No-one even noticed when he let himself back in, again through the back door, and went straight back to his room.
Al found himself enjoying the silence, the sounds of nature and the stillness the evening brought – and so, he went out again the next night, and the next night, and the next.
It gave him space to think. On a rational level, he knew that none of this was his mother's fault, or the fault of his siblings- but most days he just couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. He didn't hate them, he wasn't even angry with them… he was just empty.
After the first time, he decided to wear shoes and actually dressed in something other than his pyjamas. Al looked at his watch, 6:00am. He'd been walking since 2:00, but he didn't want to go home. He didn't want to face another day so instead of turning back like he usually did, Al just kept on walking. And walking. And walking. He found himself in a town he'd never seen before, rows of tiny shops just opening for the day's trade.
He walked into a café and took a seat. He didn't say a word to the owner who was busying himself In the kitchen, nor the his wife who sat at the till. He simply sat and thought about how much better everything would be if he were their child – no family name to live up to, no crazy ego's or decade old rivalries, just a greasy spoon.
The lady from the till placed a cup down in front of him – it was steaming. She set a saucer own with a tea bag and some milk, "You alright there, love?" Albus sniffed, why did she have to ask him that? Her brow furrowed with concern and she sat down on the seat opposite, "Hey now, what's the matter? Listen, lovey whatever it is I'm sure we can work it out. Harold, bring the lad a bap will ya?" He heard a grunt of acknowledgement come from the kitchen. Al just starred at the tea.
Everything was building up inside. He could feel his hands shaking and his eyes watering. He couldn't hold it in anymore. He couldn't go back to that place. He felt the woman place her hand on his, "Listen, pet – whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise." Something inside Albus broke and he wept. He told her about Scorpius, how he was his best friend and so much more. How he always messed it up but always got a second, third or fourth chance. How his father had convinced him to bring the boy over for Christmas dinner and then how his uncle had stabbed him. How he couldn't look at his dad because he just knew he did something and how he was completely alone.
The woman just nodded and passed him the sausage bap when her husband brought it over. "Sounds like you need to get yourself away from there, lovey." She looked at him and signed, "How long have you got left in school?"
"A year". She nodded again,
"Right then, plenty of time. Finish up," she pointed to the food left on his plate. "You're gonna go help Harold in the kitchen, and then we're gonna figure out a plan."
Albus just starred at her, "What? You're gonna help me?" She simply smiled,
"Of course. What's your name?"
"Albus… Ma'am" She nodded,
"Lovely to meet you, Albus. You can call me Myra".