Chapter 6—Departures

The three Potter children quietly ate, while nervously eyeing their parents. James narrowed his eyes at Albus.

"What did you do?" he mouthed across the table.

"Nothing!"

Harry set his knife down with a clatter, and dabbed his mouth with his napkin.

"I, erm, have a bit of news," he said.

"Oh?" Ginny's voice was cool.

"What's that, Dad?" Albus asked, looking away from his brother's gaze.

"You're not pregnant, are you, mum?" asked Lily.

"Oh my god, Lily!" James exclaimed.

"No, sweetheart. Mum's not going to have a baby," Harry patted her hand, but eyed Ginny warily. She glared at him in return.

"Actually, Aunt Hermione called me in for a meeting with the Supreme Mugwump and MACUSA President Picquery-Tomlinson this afternoon. It seems that Kingsley put my name up for a special assignment."

"Like a new job?" asked Lily.

"Something like that—more of a temporary duty assignment," Harry replied.

A sense of foreboding washed over Albus, and he eyed his father warily.

"Does this mean you'll be going away?" James asked. "For how long?"

"Well, this is sort of a different type of situation. I can bring you all along actually." Harry gave a disarming smile.

"What exactly do you mean bring us along, Harry?" Ginny asked. She set her silverware down, giving him a hard stare. "What kind of temporary duty allows for you to bring your family? Where is this assignment?"

"America."

"America! They're mad! The United States?" his family exclaimed, all talking at once.

"So, you've decided with Hermione and Kingsley that I should just leave my job, and move to America? What about the kids? Are we going to uproot them too?"

"It's my final year, Dad!" James declared. "I'm Head Boy!"

"Exactly!" Ginny co-signed her son's statement.

"What about our friends?" Lily asked.

"Yeah." Albus added.

"You haven't got any friends," said James.

"Piss off, James!" Albus glared at his brother. "I do too!"

"Your little boyfriend doesn't count! Or should I say, ex—isn't he about to be expelled from Hogwarts?"

Vermiculus!

James' dinner transformed into a mass of wriggling worms. Lily shrieked and James leapt back, upsetting his chair into the china dresser, and sending several plates crashing to the floor.

"You stupid fuckwit!" James yelled, whipping out his wand, and pointing it at his brother.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry disarmed his older son, and vanished the worm infested plate and broken china. "Evanesco! That is enough! James Sirius, you watch your language! We do not use wands at the table, or jinx family members!" he bellowed, glaring at both of his sons. "Apologize at once!"

"What for?"

"He started it!"

"Why didn't you take his wand?"

"Enough! I said apologize! Both of you!"

"Sorry. I apologize." Both boys mumbled, slouching in their chairs and refusing to meet one another's eyes. "May I have my wand back?"

"After dinner." Harry swiped a hand over his face. "Now then. You kids may continue to attend Hogwarts, or President Tomlinson has also suggested you might attend Ilvermorny on exchange if you wish."

"I'm not leaving Hogwarts," Lily declared.

"No way, I'm missing Seventh Year!" James muttered.

"Albus?" Harry looked at his sullen, younger son, who shrugged.

"I don't care." Harry sighed, helplessly, giving him a sympathetic look.

"Ginny, Tomlinson also said they'd arrange a position for you with the Allied Magical Press. You could write freelance."

"So, you've just got it all figured out, yeah?" Ginny's tone was sarcastic, as she shrugged, pushing away her plate. "No need to ask us our opinion, innit?"

"Ginny—"

"I suppose the house is all picked out too, yeah?"

"May we be excused?" asked Lily. Her mother's voice had taken on a hint of West Country brogue, a signal of the Weasley women's legendary fury. Ginny waved her hand and the three teenagers bolted from the table.

"It's a part of the assignment."

"Why bother even discussing it then, Harry. It's clear that you're planning to accept—or have you already said 'yes'?"

"I haven't, Ginny. I told them I'd need to discuss it with all of you first!" Harry protested. Ginny scoffed. She pushed away from the table, leaving him alone in the dining room. He sighed and went to the library, where she stood at one of the tall French doors, looking out into the garden.

"Ginny—"

"You do whatever you want to do, Harry. You always do."

"Come on, Gin. You're not being fair."

"Really? So, now we allow the kids-Albus to have visitors in the house when we're not home? Not just any visitors—Malfoys!"

"I've already explained that!" Harry maintained.

"I don't want our son associating with him! He's a delinquent! And you spoke up for him, didn't you? Just like his dad!"

"We've been over this, Ginny. I'm not going to apologize for doing my job. Don't change the subject!"

"Okay, let's talk about your job!" She wheeled around to face him. "What if I don't want to leave? Did you even consider that, Harry?"

"Personally, I think I change of pace would be good for us," he argued.

"I don't want a change of pace!" she insisted.

"Maybe Gordon Horton is all the change you need," Harry muttered, going to the credenza and unstoppering a bottle of Quintin Black.

"What did you say?" Ginny's voice was low and predatory. Harry took his time, pouring a measure of liquor into his glass and swirling it around.

"I saw the two of you at James' final." He took a seat in one of the club chairs near the fireplace, and sipped his drink. "If you don't want to go to America, fine. Don't go." He shrugged. "Just don't pretend this is about me."

"Are you having a laugh?" Ginny stared at him incredulously. "It's always been about you, Harry! You're so busy saving the world, you don't even know how to live in it!" she ranted. "And who gives a shit about anybody else who matters, you just go charging off half-cocked and ready for a fight!"

"That's not true!" he protested.

"Isn't it? You dragged Hermione and my brother around all over the back country for nearly a year! You left me, Harry!" Ginny yelled. "You fucking left me! And when you came back, you went. Off. To. Die! You made your decision—without me!" She exhaled slowly, and when she spoke again, her voice was low and malevolent. "Now, I'm making a decision without you, Harry Potter."

Ginny stormed out of the room, and a moment later, Harry heard the front door slam. He heaved a long sigh, and tossed back his drink. He summoned the bottle and filled the glass this time, slumping in the chair and staring into the fireplace.

Scorpius lay on his back in front of the fireplace of his apartment sitting room, lazily twirling his wand. Above him, two parchment dragons, transfigured from his astronomy homework, chased one another through the air. He sighed and flicked his wand, sending the beasts diving into the flame, and rolled onto his stomach.

Dinner had been a strained affair at best, though Scorpius ha to give his father credit for making an effort to distract him from his worries.

"I've a wonderful idea! You've been begging me to allow you to attend la vendemmia at Castello di Fuoco Serpentino. Why not go this year? There is a beautiful view of the valley from the central tower. It will be yours when you receive your birthright. It's never too early to begin your study of viticulture."

"I suppose," Scorpius replied, flatly.

"I had intended to take your mother on a world tour for our twentieth anniversary. You and I could go abroad. We can go on the Nundu safari in Africa," Draco suggested.

"You know, I read a muggle article which posits that sport hunting has begun to decimate entire species, with far reaching effects, including a devastating impact on the ecosystem."

"Is this what you've learned in—" Scorpius knew his father was about to mention Muggle Studies, which had been made a compulsory class after the war, but he feigned ignorance of his father's slip, and awkward attempt to cover it. "You've done quite a bit of reading about muggles, yes?"

"Well…" Scorpius turned the stem of his wine glass.

"And the Potter boy has cultivated this fascination?"

"Albus is very knowledgeable about muggle culture," Scorpius replied defensively. "Did you know that they have an automobile? They attend the cinema. It's like watching theatre, except on a large screen with lots of noise and really interesting machines like airplanes, and these things called space ships, and sometimes creatures more amazing than the ones we read about in school. Their clothes are so interesting and practical! Albus and his sister and brother even attended a muggle primary school."

"Really. Well, Albus' father was raised among muggles. His mother was muggleborn, so he understands their world, I suppose. It seems so…so…primitive!" Draco declared. A house elf arrived pushing a dessert cart. Draco declined, but Scorpius chose a tarte Tatin individuelle.

"But Father, have you ever been in the muggle world?" Scorpius asked, taking a bite of the decadent dessert.

"I—hmm. No, my son. I don't believe that I have. Grandfather and Grandmother had instilled in me an intense intolerance of all things muggle. I thought that they were brutish and obtuse, and untrustworthy. After all, they had persecuted our ancestors before the Statute of Secrecy was enacted."

"I know all of that, Father, but Minister Granger-Weasley may be onto something. It is to our peril that we refuse to learn anything from them."

"And what have you learned from them, that you can't do better with magic?" Draco asked.

"The curse that caused Mother's ill health might have been treated and destroyed with muggle medicine." Draco stared at Scorpius with his mouth agape. The young wizard shrugged, smiling weakly. "Father, if I'm to be responsible for the completion of my education henceforth, I would like to create my own curriculum. I want to petition the Wizarding Examinations Authority for the opportunity to sit for my O.W.L.s, but I would also like to undertake a closer examination of the muggle world, and a reading of those aspects of the trivium and quadrivium that are not taught in the magical curriculum."

"That is quite a lofty goal, my son."

"When has a Malfoy ever allowed a challenge to hinder him? Father, we could explore it together. You might discover that it's not such a bad place." Scorpius insisted. Draco looked into his son's eyes, and saw a flicker of something he hadn't recognized in quite some time. He sipped his wine thoughtfully.

"I don't know son."

Scorpius thought back on his dinner conversation with his father as he leafed through the essays and charts he'd spent days completing ahead of his classes—assignments that he would not have the opportunity to present to his instructors. He knew that his father was more than capable of teaching him, as he'd spent a significant portion of his holiday at his father's side, learning advanced potion-making technique and obscure recipes, studying alchemical manuscripts, observing the stars, and applying new and little-known spells to his dueling arsenal.

He already knew more magic than many of his peers when he arrived at Hogwarts, and was confident that he might even already be quite capable of passing his O.W.L.s without much further study. He knew that it would take serious effort on his part to convince anyone that he should at least be given the opportunity to have his skills officially documented, but he would have much preferred to prove himself at Hogwarts.

A tubular bell beside the hearth sounded, and Scorpius scrambled over the fireplace, summoning the vessel where his floo powder was kept. He smiled broadly, tossing in a pinch. Albus' head appeared in the flames with and expression of vexation.

"What's the matter?"

"I—I don't know…everything," Albus replied.

"Do you want to come through?" Scorpius asked. Albus hesitated a moment and looked over his shoulder.

"Well, okay, but just for a bit."

Scorpius smiled and moved away from the hearth. A moment later, Albus stepped out of the fireplace.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, looking around the finely appointed room.

Two sets of tall double doors faced each other at opposite ends of the room in traditional enfiladed apartment style. Albus could see through the open set, an opulent bedchamber, and assumed the opposite entry led to another room, or perhaps the corridor beyond. The high coffered ceiling boasted scenes from Tales of Beedle the Bard—the center panel playing out the Tale of the Three Brothers, in vivid detail. A comfortable arrangement of furniture faced the fireplace, including a loveseat, and wing-backed armchairs all upholstered in luxurious silvery grey damask fabric. The walls were hung with cabinet paintings, most depicting woodland scenes or varieties of dragons and other magical creatures. Beyond the seating area, there was a well-appointed writing desk. A handsome Siamese cat was curled upon a luxurious velvet bed, its bright blue eyes keenly observing the two young wizards.

"I didn't know you had a cat," Albus remarked.

"He belonged to my mother, but we seemed to have bonded recently. His name is Niran I'd intended to bring him with me to school this term."

Seeming to know that he was being talked about, the slender cat approached them, nudging Albus' leg. He bent to pick him up.

"So, did you miss me that much already?" Scorpius teased.

"Maybe." Albus gave a half-smile, as he scratched between the cat's ears. "

"Is something the matter?" Scorpius asked. He placed a hand on Albus' arm.

"Mum and Dad had a terrible row."

"About me?"

"No." They sat down in front of the fireplace, and Scorpius flicked his wand to gather his papers. "That your schoolwork?" Albus asked. The cat scrambled away and returned to his bed.

"Forget about that. What happened with your parents?" Scorpius deflected his question.

"Well, the whole thing was a mess, honestly. We were having dinner, and Mum was giving Dad these cold looks. I guess she was still hacked off about the way he talked to her in front of you and your Dad. Then Dad makes this big announcement."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He's been given a temporary assignment by the International Confederation of Wizards. Apparently the Supreme Mugwump asked him personally."

"Wow! Must be important."

"He didn't say exactly what the job was, just that…well, it's in America."

"America?"

"Yeah."

"Are you—are you going away?"

"I don't—I don't know, honestly. James and Lily were all up in arms about school, and James and I had a row. He started having a go at me, about how I haven't got any friends to miss me, especially since you've been excluded—then I jinxed his dinner plate into worms. He knocked his chair into the china dresser and broke a bunch of plates, and then he tried to hex me, but dad disarmed him and yelled at us both. Dad tried to explain that we could all continue to go to Hogwarts, or we could enroll at Ilvermorny. Apparently, it's all been arranged."

"Ilvermorny?"

"I don't think I'd like that much at all. Either way, I wouldn't get to see you."

"So what did your Mum say?"

"Mum was furious. She yelled at Dad for making plans and not including any of us. They sent us up to bed, but I sat on the stairs and listened. She accused him of always wanting to be the hero, and leaving everyone else behind. Something about the war, when he and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione went off to try to stop Tom Riddle. I think he broke up with her before they left or something, but—" Albus heaved a sigh and stared into the flames flickering in the hearth.

"What?"

"Dad accused Mum of cheating on him."

"No way! How does he know?"

"He saw them together at James' Quidditch match."

"Merlin!" Scorpius slumped back against the sofa. "Wait—did you see them?"

"No, but—well, Dad said it's…erm…Gordon Horton."

"Wait! The Gordon Horton? The keeper for Chudley Canons?"

"That's what Dad said." Albus shrugged. "That's when Mum yelled at him about never being there for her, and…and then she left."

"Really?"

"She's never left when they've had a row before. I think they might be splitting up."

Scorpius put his arm about Albus' shoulder, and the dark haired young wizard leaned into him.

"I'm really sorry, Albus. Maybe it won't be as bad as all that. They're both probably really emotional right now."

"That's just the strange thing about it," Albus replied. "Dad didn't seem terribly bothered about it at all. He told Mum that she could do whatever she wanted. He didn't even chase after her when she stormed out!"

"Merlin!" Scorpius remarked. "I don't really know what to say to that, love. I can't remember my parents ever having a row. I guess Father was too worried about what might happen if Mother became upset."

"What do you think she'd say about us?" Albus wondered aloud.

"I don't know. She was happy that I'd found a friend in you. She wanted to meet you, actually, but Father wouldn't allow it. We've never been terribly social. He thought it would be too stressful for Mother, and she never wanted anyone to pity us. Apparently malicious gossip was alright, however." Scorpius frowned. He played his fingers in Albus' hair.

"I've heard that some traditional purebloods frown upon same-gender relationships. They're a lot like many muggles in that regard," Albus remarked.

"Muggles frown upon it? Why? It's not as if they need to worry about producing an heir in order to uphold a pure bloodline."

"They think it's a sin. The muggle government only consented to allow marriage rights a few years ago. A few decades ago, one could be imprisoned for homosexual indecency." He rolled his eyes.

"That's just insane. Whoever heard of such a thing? I read in last week's Prophet that Michael Grassick, the keeper for Falmouth just got engaged to Sydney Atherton—"

"That bloke who plays bass for Toil & Trouble?" Scorpius nodded.

"That's the one. According to rumour, they're planning to have the wedding where they first met. They've asked Professor McGonagall if they can have the wedding on the pitch at Hogwarts!"

"Merlin's beard! I wonder if she'll say 'yes'."

"Well Rita Skeeter reckons they've offered her a substantial sum of gold for the privilege," said Scorpius.

"McGonagall could never be bought," Albus snorted. "Of course, she is a pretty serious Quidditch fan and Grassick played for the Scottish national team."

"I think it's kind of romantic anyway," Scorpius mused. "Of course, the Old Man was utterly scandalized. He called them degenerate sodomites and criticized the paper for taking up space even reporting it."

"No question where he stands on the subject, yeah? What about your dad?"

"Father rarely says much to the Old Man. He prefers to get the obligatory family meals out of the way with as little fanfare as possible. He just muttered something about everyone ought to be able to love who they want, and the world would be a much better place if people stopped insisting that others fit in categories that are anything but neat."

"I shouldn't be surprised. How did things work out after you left ours?" Albus asked.

What happened with your dad? Were you in a lot of trouble for running away?"

"I think he's just relieved that all I did was visit your house." Scorpius shrugged. "We had dinner at the club, and he tried to cheer me up. He suggested a trip abroad. He's finally decided to take me to la vendemmia at our vineyard in Tuscany. We depart the day after tomorrow."

"That's the first…" Albus scowled slightly.

"I know, erm…" Scorpius cleared his throat. "It feels as if we're cast in some awful classic tragedy. Star-crossed lovers torn apart by forces beyond our control."

"We're not destined to tragedy!" Albus protested.

"But we can't be together," Scorpius complained.

"We are together!" Albus sat up and turned to face him. "We should make a pact right now."

"A pact?"

"Absolutely!" Albus declared. "No matter what happens, we will do everything we can to stay together." Albus avowed.

"We won't give up on each other."

"Never."

"Right." They stared at each other for a moment. "Now what?"

"I don't know. Is there a spell for that sort of thing?"

"I'm not making an unbreakable vow!" Scorpius insisted.

"Of course not! Just a promise." The two wizards turned pensive. Albus tapped his lips with his fingers.

"Oh! I know!" Scorpius proclaimed suddenly. Albus jumped. "Take up your wand." He summoned his wand, and Albus withdrew his from his pocket. "Now, give me your hand."

Albus tentatively held out his hand, and Scorpius took it, touching his wand to it. Albus snatched his hand back.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"A spell!" Albus gave him a suspicious look. "Fine." Scorpius held out his own hand, palm up. "I'll go first. Take it!" he insisted. Albus took Scorpius' hand, regarding him warily. "Okay, cross my heart line as you say the incantation: Vestrum Vere."

"Vestrum Vere?"

"Yes. You have to do it, while you touch the wand to my hand. Like this." Scorpius drew an 'X' across the crease in his hand that extended from the edge of his palm under his little finger across to just below his middle finger. "Remember, you have to mean it."

Albus continued to look at Scorpius apprehensively. Scorpius gave him a nod. Albus took a deep breath and touched his wand to Scorpius' hand.

"Vestrum Vere!" he said, with a resolute tone as he made an 'X' on his palm. He gasped. Scorpius' palm looked as if it had been scored with a laser, and thin lines of blood appeared in the burnt gashes. "Fucking Merlin! I—"

"Relax, Albus! It's supposed to do that. Doesn't hurt a bit, see?"

"Are you sure?" Albus wasn't convinced.

"Positive. My turn." Scorpius picked up his wand.

Albus absolutely did not want to do what he'd just done to Scorpius, but that wouldn't have been fair. He gritted his teeth, and held out his palm, squeezing his eyes shut. Scorpius repeated the incantation, and Albus felt a tingle when the other wizard's wand touched his flesh. He nervously opened one eye. Scorpius grinned at him.

"Now we have to take off our shirts."

"What!" Albus stared at him with large eyes.

"Just do it!" said Scorpius in an exasperated tone as he unbuttoned his chemise. Albus pulled the sweatshirt he wore over his head.

Scorpius pressed his palm to Albus' chest, and he shivered, feeling the warm hand against his skin. He placed his hand on Scorpius' chest, feeling the other's heartbeat pounding into his hand. His breath caught in his throat.

"Now we pledge to one another, his immortal beloved." Scorpius instructed. Albus wasn't certain how he knew what to say, but when Scorpius spoke, he was moved to speak in unison with him.

"Forever mine, forever thine, forever us."

A faint golden glow enveloped the two young wizards and withdrew to the place beneath each hand on the other's chest. They sat in that fashion for several minutes, staring into one another's eyes. Scorpius leaned in to kiss Albus.

"You taste like magic," Scorpius whispered. Albus snorted. He slid his hands over Scorpius' pale torso, marveling at the sinewy muscle he found there.

"You know what magic tastes like?" Albus whispered back, leaning into Scorpius, who slid his hands down Albus' back, eliciting a shudder from his dark-haired counterpart.

They lay facing one another on the silk rug and continued to kiss, their hands traveling over each other, as if sculptors working on mirrored masterpieces.

"It tastes like warmth and…roast beef—" Albus laughed at that, and Scorpius snickered. "And it's soft and just a little bit sweet…" He tightened his grip on Albus, aware of the bulge against his groin. "…and electrifying!" he murmured.

Albus took Scorpius' hand, and they laced their fingers, holding tightly to one another, forehead's touching as they gazed deeply into one another's eyes.

The Hogwarts Express belched a cloud of steam that briefly shrouded platform 9 ¾, casting the bustling crowd of students and parents into shadows of mysterious beings. The Potter-Weasley clan gathered in a large huddle nearest the first passenger car. The teens, mostly attired in Gryffindor scarlet—Dominique and Lucy were in Ravenclaw, and Molly was a Hufflepuff-gossiped with one another and greeted passing friends, while their parents stood nearby, chatting.

"I haven't seen Al looking this morose since his first year," remarked Ron. Albus sat on the edge of his trolley, apart from his cousins, chin in hand. In his other, he turned what appeared to be a small silver compact.

"Malfoy," Ginny rolled her eyes with a huff. "Honestly! You'd think they were in love!"

"Ginny." Harry gave her a stern look.

"What?" She returned his gaze with a cool one.

Their in-laws and siblings glanced from wife to husband curiously. None of them knew the full details of Harry and Ginny's marital discord, only that Ginny was unhappy with Harry's decision to accept the assignment in The United States, and that she'd chosen to remain in England. The train sounded its whistle, inciting the usual flurry of last minute activity on the platform as students rushed to board the train, and parents issued last minute instructions, and reassurances while insisting on hugs and kisses and slipping forgotten items into pockets.

The Weasleys all made their goodbyes. Lily and James accepted hugs from their father, who promised to reunite the family for Christmas. Albus quietly accepted his father's hug, and half-heartedly embraced his mother before following the others on the train. He entered the first empty compartment he came across and dropped into a seat, somewhat happy that his siblings and cousins had moved on. He opened the silver compact.

He and Scorpius managed a brief floo call the previous evening, and Scorpius had given it to him as a gift. It was a two-way mirror.

"This way, we can see each other, even if we don't have a floo," Scorpius had explained, holding up his own compact mirror.

Albus thought of a small piece of broken looking glass that his father kept in the drawer of his desk. He gazed into the mirror just in time to see the handsome young blond departing an unfamiliar room. He was about to call out when the door to the compartment slid open and three girls wearing Slytherin robes stepped inside. They were led by a beautiful dark-skinned witch with long, black hair and cat-like eyes. Albus snapped the mirror shut and slid it into his pocket.

"So it's true. Malfoy got the boot and now Potter's an even bigger saddo than before!" giggled Sofia Zabini.

"Piss off, Zabini. Don't you and your coven of hags have something better to do, like finding suitable First Years for your lunch?" he scowled at her.

"I've a better idea, Potter. How about you shove off before I hex the seven shades of shit out of you. Perhaps you'd prefer to arrive at the castle with a tentacle for a head." She smiled malevolently, pointing her wand.

"Zabini!" Rose snapped, standing in the doorway. "Move along. There are plenty of compartments in the next carriage." Rose tugged smartly at her robes, clearly showing off the prefect's badge she wore. Sofia gave Rose a simpering grin.

"I'll be seeing you, Potter!" she arched a brow and turned on her heel, her lackeys following her from the compartment. Albus heaved a dispirited sigh and rested his head on the window.

"No need to thank me, Al." Rose declared.

"I wasn't."

"You know, it wouldn't hurt you to try and make some real friends. Just because Malfoy threw away his education, doesn't mean you can't at least act like you want to be here. Fix your tie. You look like a tramp." She stormed out of the compartment, leaving him alone.

"I don't want to be here," Albus mumbled as the train whistled one last time.

"Well, I've got an interview in Falmouth," Ginny announced before abruptly disapparating as the train gave its final whistle.

"What's with her?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged, shaking his head. He scanned the windows of the train for Albus.

"I'll see you at the Ministry before you depart, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Sure thing," he affirmed distractedly.

The engine let out an almighty hiss, and the wheels began to turn. Ron and Hermione disapparated, and Harry turned back towards the barrier.

"Dad!" Harry paused, squinting through the haze at the passing windows as the train gathered speed. "Dad!" the voice was louder now, and Albus emerged from the cloud of steam.

"Albus! What on earth—"

Albus dropped his trunk and belongings that he'd trundled along behind him. His owl, Fancy, gave an indignant squawk as her cage teetered precariously atop Gonçalo's. Albus rushed to his father, who gripped his arms.

"I don't want to go back to Hogwarts!" he blurted. "I—I can't bear it! I want to go to America with you!"

"Albus—" Harry began. Albus gripped his father's sleeves tightly, his watery eyes beseeching.

"Please, Dad!" he begged