The Good Son

Chapter Six

Bittersweet

Lily Luna Potter eagerly shoved her way into the train, anger at her father fading as she sought out her estranged cousin Hugo. Her father had taken her aside before the train departed and warned her against both Albus and Hugo, claiming that it would be safer and better for her to join Gryffindor and be a good girl. She found his attitude intolerable and she didn't care what he said, Hugo and her were just three weeks apart and had been the best of friends since their diaper days while Albus would be her brother till the day she died. She decided to ignore her father, deciding to follow Albus' path and let the Sorting Hat make the choice for her. And then, if she somehow became a Slytherin she dared her father to treat her like he treated Albus.

Suddenly she felt someone yank on her arm and she found herself pulled into an empty compartment, faced with Rose and Albus, both of them wielding grim expressions on their thirteen year old faces.

"When the hat asks you to choose," said Albus urgently, "I want you to choose Gryffindor."

"He's right," muttered Rose beside him, "You need to join the lions; for your own safety." Sometimes it was hard to remember that Rose was a Ravenclaw, she spent so much of her time with the Slytherins. It was harder to believe that she was half-Malfoy but she had taken it in stride and had recently had her last name changed to Granger. She bore no ill will to her father (both of them) but wanted to be her own person; without the undeserved glory that she gained by being a Weasley or the stigma that was attached to the Malfoys.

"I want to let the Hat choose," Lily said stubbornly, "I don't mind being in Slytherin."

"But I do mind you becoming a snake," scowled Albus, "I don't want you in Slytherin Lily, you don't want to have to put up with dads shit for the rest of your life." He flicked his wand, obscuring the compartment windows so that nobody could look in on them before Rose hit the door with a locking charm. A second flick of his wand and his glamours dropped, showcasing the numerous bruises and scrapes across his arms and face. A black eye came into view, marring his emerald eyes with its brutality. Lily gasped in horror; she had never known that her father actually hit Albus.

"You don't want to be in Slytherin Lily," said Rose quietly, averting her eyes from her male cousin, she had known, she had seen them when Albus came to visit the Manor for a week during the holiday and Hermione (a master of casting glamour charms) had noticed that he was completely shrouded in them. Hermione and Draco had been furious; Draco in particular had suffered abuse from Lucius and knew from painful experience what it was like. Draco had begun to see Albus a third son and Hermione was ready to charge into Grimmauld Place with her wand drawn and cruciate her former best friend. But after much pleading on Albus' part they had let the matter rest, they all knew how pointless it would be to go against Harry Potter; Saviour of the Wizarding World.

"Make sure the hat sorts you elsewhere," said Albus, his wand swirling as he began to reapply his charms. Lily nodded mutely, still aghast as she turned to leave the compartment.

"I'm really sorry Albus," she said meekly before walking away, "I love you."

"I know baby sister . . . I know," said Albus quietly, before setting off with Rose to find their fellow Outcasts.

(*)(*)(*)

"Potter, Lily," said Neville, the hall falling silent, dozens of eyes flitting between James and Albus, wondering whose loyalty their younger sister would choose. Albus and Scorpius straightened on their bench, both staring intently at the young girl with burning copper eyes and flaming red hair, a few shades darker than the usual Weasley red.

Despite having warned his sister about becoming a Slytherin, Albus couldn't let go of the wary hope that she would be joining him in the House of Green and Silver. The morbid desire was fuelled by the fact that he assumed Harry would stop treating him so poorly if one of his siblings was in his house as well but at the same time he didn't dare condemn his sister to his own fate. The last holiday at home had been his worst yet, he had spent a week at the Manor and had stayed with Teddy for a fortnight but when he was home his father was worse than ever. Coupled with what he deemed as Hermione's betrayal, the stress of having heading a department and his own marital problems he had taken to drinking – not excessively, just a glass of firewhiskey before bed every night – but when Uncle Ron was over the two would proceed to get thoroughly drunk and when his father was drunk . . . he would vent his frustrations on his disappointing, shameful, useless Slytherin son.

James wasn't any better, he didn't beat Albus or insult him . . . No, what James did was worse; he knew what was happening behind closed doors, he walked past Albus being jinxed and cursed in the hallways at school, he saw the bruises on his brothers face when the upper-year Gryffindors were done with him and yet James didn't lay a finger to help him. It hurt him, more than any slap from his father ever could, it hurt that James simply didn't care.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Albus stiffened; his last hopes for having a family member beside him fading away as his sister's black tie became striped with blue and bronze. Scorpius patted him reassuringly on the arm, Xavier gave him a sympathetic look and he felt Kat squeeze his wrist.

"At least she's not a Gryffindork," said Delphin from his seat across the table, beside Xavier.

Albus took a shaky breath and smiled weakly at his friends.

"I guess it'll be easier for her this way . . ." he concluded sadly.

(*)(*)(*)

"Trelawney is such a bloody bat," scowled Scorpius, plopping down beside his friends and glaring at his divination textbook. Nobody commented, he had been very vocal about his love for the subject last year when they were choosing their electives; obviously it was not as good as he had expected.

"If she predicts my death one more time I swear I'm going to hex her," muttered Albus as he fell in beside Scorpius, smiling at Cassiopeia from her perch across from him. Since they had rescued her the previous year she had become increasingly attached to the Outcasts, to the point where she now spent most of her free time with them rather than the students in her own year group. Albus on the other hand would have preferred she keep her distance, he had been having strange dreams lately and he didn't need to be a seer to predict that Scorpius would punch him in the face for wanting to snog his baby sister.

"At least you lot don't have Care of Magical Creatures," sighed Xavier, his robes still splattered with mud from his earlier lesson involving a skittish unicorn and a pair of fire-crabs. To make matters worse it had been pouring with rain the entire week.

"Tough mate," grinned Delphin, "Maybe you shouldn't have tried mud-wrestling with Boot." Xavier flushed a bright red at the innuendo.

"We weren't mud-wrestling," he spluttered in indignation, "She landed on top of me when that bloody unicorn kicked her!"

"You enjoyed it though," smirked Delphin, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, maybe a little," Xavier admitted, still bright red as he hid his face behind his textbook. The rest of them were laughing loudly at their friend, except for Kat who suddenly got to her feet and announced she was tired before stomping crossly up to her dorm.

"What's biting her arse?" asked Delphin, amusement evident in his voice.

"Isn't it obvious," said Cass, flinging a cushion at the older boy which caused a bottle of ink to tip over onto him, splattering his olive skin with midnight blue, "She fancies Xav!"

"She does?" asked the boy in question, seemingly perking up as his eyes peeked out warily over the top of his book (which was being help upside down). Scorpius, Albus and Delphin roared with laughter at their friend, really it was so obvious to everyone that Kat had been smitten since they were in their first year.

"Boys," muttered Cass, "They never can take a hint," she shot a pointed look at Albus which caused Scorpius to turn and glare at his best mate suspiciously.

"Why did she look at you when she said that?" he asked after his younger sister had packed her bag and gone to check to see if Kat was okay before going to bed.

"I don't know mate," said Albus quickly, he let out a shaky laugh, "Women, they're all barking mad."

(*)(*)(*)

Hugo grinned up at his half-brother, laughing lightly at the sight of Scorpius drenched in stinksap. His latest detention, completely unwarranted by the way – he had been late to class because a pair of seventh year Hufflepuffs had hit him with a tripping jinx; Professor Longbottom was not sympathetic – had involved having to clean the entirety of Greenhouse two.

"Tergeo," said Hugo, winking at Scorpius' appreciative look as the sap disappeared. Hugo had a particular penchant for cleaning and healing charms, two concepts that Scorpius had never learned. He had been attached at the hip to the Outcasts since being sorted into Slytherin, the bullying he that Albus had received in his first year paled in comparison to what Hugo was being made to go through so it was no surprise when the Outcasts closed ranks around him. Hugo was a Slytherin, like them, and more importantly he was Scorpius' brother, meaning that he was family.

"Thanks Hugh," groaned Scorpius as he sank into the couch beside him, "Longarse is a bloody prat."

"What did he do now?" asked the first year, he was no stranger to Neville's cruelty. The fact that he was a Malfoy born out of wedlock to Hermione of all people had instantly meant that he was worth less than dragon dung in herbology class.

"He had Elena doing lines," snarled Scorpius angrily, referring to his fellow third year. The Outcasts were not particularly close to Elena, who was very girly and prone to giggling fits. They had her back when she needed it and they could be termed friends but they never really hung out with her or her best friend, Isabella Goyle. Nevertheless, the sense of loyalty and kinship within Slytherin House ensured that they were all fiercely protective of each other. Albus and Xavier were at this moment in detention for hexing Alison Longbottom – after she had hit Isabella Goyle with a balding charm.

"That doesn't sound so bad," said Hugo comfortingly.

"With a blood quill," added Scorpius, causing the younger boy to fall silent immediately. It was a well known fact amongst the Slytherins that Neville kept a set of blood quills specially reserved for their house. It was also well known that he never used them on the students from the other houses.

"Dad owled," said Cass, breaking the tense silence as she came to sit beside them holding a letter, "He wants to know if we're coming home this Easter."

"I went home for Christmas," said Scorpius, "I can't bail on Albus again; Delphin stayed on Christmas."

"Why doesn't he just come with us?" asked Hugo, rolling his eyes when Scorpius leapt up in delight. Really, the guy seemed to be on a permanent sugar high for most of his life. Hugo absently wondered if that was the reason Cass forbade Scorpius from having second helpings of dessert.

"That is a brilliant idea!" declared the eldest Malfoy present.

"Genius," Cass smacked her brother upside the head, causing him to look affronted, "How are we going to get him home without his parents knowing and stopping him."

"What they don't know won't hurt them," said Hugo slyly causing Scorpius to beam proudly, his little brother was really growing into his Slytherin cunning.

(*)(*)(*)

"I can't believe we managed to pull that off," laughed Albus as they arrived at the manor, Draco and Hermione both looking very tired from the apparition. It took a lot of energy to carry somebody along with you, more so when you carried multiple people. With the seven of them needing to return from the Manor, Draco and Hermione had taxed themselves greatly by apparating five children with them.

"I was sure we would get caught when James came into the compartment," giggled Rose, helping her mother over to the sofa.

"Good thing Hugo's good with glamours," praised Scorpius as he handed two glasses of water to his father and future stepmother, they accepted the drinks gratefully whilst Hugo grinned impishly in appreciation. He had inherited his mother's penchant for illusion charms and could cast them with ease.

"I seriously hate you for making me look like a girl," said Albus in a faux angry voice, glaring as the youngest Malfoy, "seriously, where the breasts really necessary?" Rose and Scorpius roared with laughter, Cass had a broad grin on her face.

"No," said Hugo, a smirk playing on his face, "But it was damn funny watching Seth Finnigan hit on you." This time they all burst out laughing, even the adults who just exchanged amused glances at their children's antics.

(*)(*)(*)

The library of Malfoy Manor was still and quiet as he walked in, that was to be expected this late at night. Hurriedly he found the book he had been looking for and walked back to the room he shared with Scorpius whenever he visited. It wasn't that there was a shortage of rooms in the Manor, Merlin alone knew how many empty bedrooms littered the upper floors but Scorpius insisted that Albus was not a guest and thus didn't need to sleep in a guest room. Besides, the blonde enjoyed having his best friend close at hand to discuss potential pranks.

He stepped onto the balcony, savouring the cool midnight air as he delved into his jacket pocket for the muggle cigarette he had taken from Draco's office. He had seen his Uncle Ron smoke them on occasion and whenever he had asked his uncle for the reason he smoked Ron would tell him the same thing, "It's very relaxing Al."

Albus needed a bit of relaxation now, especially so close to Christmas. The festive holiday was always difficult for him, especially considering how much he had once loved the holiday and spending it with his family at the Burrow. But apart from his mother, Uncle George, Teddy and his grandmother Molly, nobody in his family sent him gifts anymore. The Malfoy's always did, but it didn't really count – they were his friends not his family. It wasn't that Albus wanted the presents; he would have been content to just receive a card from his cousins and uncles; he just wanted them to accept him. Was that so hard?

Who would accept a person like you?

The snide voice in his head was at it again, without hesitation Albus lit the cigarette with his wand and inhaled deeply, the acrid taste of smoke filling his lungs. He coughed harshly, unable to breathe for a moment before regaining his composure. The second pull wasn't as bad; he choked slightly on the smoke but didn't cough.

Uncle Ron was right.

It was very relaxing.

(*)(*)(*)

"That was the most exhausting holiday I have ever had," sighed Draco, reclining in bed beside Hermione, who had her nose buried in a book. Despite being fired from her Ministry job she had flourished in her new profession as a private lawyer; word had quickly gotten around about how well she had handled her own divorce and managed to keep everything she owned– not having to pay Ron a single knut – and she was no incredibly famous amongst pure-blood witches seeking to divorce unfaithful or abusive husbands. There was also the fact that Hermione was licensed to practice law in both worlds; magical and muggle; and in seven countries worldwide. She also held the honour of never once losing a case in her sixteen years of practicing magical law in some capacity or another.

"Never had such a full house?" smiled Hermione. In addition to their own four children and Albus, whom Draco had come to think of as his own, the rest of their school friends had been regular visitors to the manor.

"Never," he groaned, "But it was nice having so many children around, I know how hard it was being an only child with no friends when I was young."

"The Outcasts," said Hermione, "It's a fitting name for their group."

"I'm worried about groups that have names," muttered Draco under his breath, flexing his arm that was branded with the now dormant dark mark, "They all carry a lot of hate for such young people."

"The Death Eaters will never rise again Draco," Hermione assured her fiancé, "They needed a sense of belonging and they found one; of course they're angry and resentful, ask yourself when any of them have been treated as equals outside the protection of Slytherin House or the Manor?"

"It's not that I don't support them, I'm just worried," said Draco quietly, "I never knew my son and daughter actually felt like he was an outcast from society."

"Draco," said Hermione softly, putting her book down and leaning her head against his shoulder, "We're all Outcasts, neither of us can show our face in public without getting verbally assaulted too some extent." Draco sighed, knowing it was true but not liking the fact.

"I thought things would be better after the war," said Draco, pressing his lips to her forehead, "Instead they're so much worse."

"The war solved a lot of problems," she said knowledgably, her hand tracing its way up his thigh, "It also caused plenty of new ones. I don't like it but you and I both know that there's a fight coming . . . There's only so many times you can kick a dog before it bites back . . . And if that fight comes I know which side I'm going to be on."

"Which is that?" asked Draco, his arm snaking around the small of her back and drawing her close.

"Whichever side you're on," she said and he pulled her in for a searing kiss as clothes were divested and their bodies writhed together in the ecstasy of their love-making.

(*)(*)(*)

A small whimper woke him. James woke from his dreams of Quidditch to find a slender figure at the side of his bed. The elder boy squinted in the dim light, eventually realising it was his little brother. Annoyed at being woken, he turned on his bedside light and flinched at the sight before him.

His baby brother, face bruised and puffy, eyes red and bloodshot, a light gash above his right eye, slowly trickling blood down his swelling cheek stood shivering beside his bed. James sat up and pulled his brother down beside him, absently noting the battered stuffed lion the younger boy was clutching. The lion had been Teddy's and then James' and had finally passed on to Albus, and Harry had once joked that it was waiting for Teddy to have children before it passed on again. That had been before, in that distant time when their father still laughed and joked around both of them – now his smiles and chuckles were reserved for Lily and James – and Albus always tried his best to show that it didn't affect him. He shouldn't have to, thought James to himself sadly, no fourteen year old should. Albus' birthday had just passed and it had been a quiet affair, Ginny had wanted to invite his friends over but Al had been adamant not to. Their mother had no idea as to what had motivated his son to not want his friends over but had let the matter rest after Albus had pleaded for two days straight.

"Did dad do that?" James asked a teary faced Albus, who clutched the lion tighter. He hadn't seen Al so much as take the lion down from its place on the shelf for the past eight years. He had never seen Al look so vulnerable as when he nodded, clinging onto his brother like a life-line.

"I'm sorry Al," said James quietly, rubbing his brothers back.

"He's never made me bleed before . . ." whispered Albus, the gash above his eye had begun to clot but his face was still marred with congealing blood. James got up from the bed in a hurry, walking to his bathroom and coming back five minutes later with a pain potion, a bowl of water and a white face-cloth.

"What did I do to make him hate me so much?" asked Albus in a soft, lifeless voice as his brother began to clean his face with the damp cloth, tenderly washing away the drying blood. He had no answer to give Albus, so he just handed the younger boy the pain potion and continued cleaning the gash. Drawing his wand, he quickly muttered "Episkey," the split flesh quickly knitting together.

Albus leaned against his brother's chest, feeling strangely safe as he cried into his big brothers shoulder. He wished that James could be like this every night, that when the morning came they wouldn't have to go back to what had become the perverse normalcy that was his life. A life in which his father beat him for being a Slytherin, his brother didn't care, a life in which he was slowly slipping, not wanting to pull himself back up. It was just a bit of harmless fun he would tell himself, a release from the pain he had to deal with every day, because just a little bit of dark magic every once in a while was soothing and numbed him. What could it hurt? He wasn't practising the unforgivable, just basic conjuration of bonefyre. It was just a bit of harmless fun, a way to soothe his frayed emotions. It had begun with the cigarettes . . . but it hadn't taken Albus long to discover that dark magic was a much better way of becoming numb to the world.

"Can I stay here tonight," he asked quietly.

"Here," said James, tossing his brother a pillow. Both boys settled down in bed, Albus was half asleep when he heard James soft snores fill the room, shifting slowly so his arm was around his younger brother, James murmured blearily in his sleep, "Still my baby brother Al." Albus fell asleep with a smile, both boys wishing in their dreams that the night would last forever.

The morning came too soon.